What a Woman Should Know, According to Puck
by Sassy26
Summary: According to Puck there were 6 things a woman should know & it was his mission to make sure Rachel 'uptight & prissy' Berry learnt them, coz there was no way she was raising his kid with a giant stick firmly implanted in her ass AU Future Fic - M for smut
1. Unexpected Visitor

_**A/N: In the interest of full disclosure, I should confess that this story is actually based on a Roswell fanfic I wrote when I was about 14… And I'm pretty sure that fic was ripped off of a trashy romance novel I purchased at a garage sale for .50c and hid under my bed from my mum. If I still had that book, or could remember it, I'd give credit where credit is due. So rest assured I'm not claiming this concept is my own, oh no. But I'm giving it the Puckleberry spin, so clearly, my version will be better.**_

_**You should read my Roswell edition…..*shudders* God I hope my storytelling has improved since then…**_

_**Thanks to my twitter twin (who really is '2looney') and Nikki for their time and feedback….though both of you will note I kept the term 'fuggos'- just so everyone's in the loop, a fuggo is a f*cking ugly individual. It seems like a term Puck would have in his vocab, so I'm using it. I encourage you to do the same.**_

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**What a Woman Should Know**

_**(According to Puck)**_

_1) A woman should never pick stainless steel appliances over nights of endless lovin'_

_2) Too many rules are damaging to a boy's spirit, to anyone's spirit._

_3) Germs are NOT deadly. Dog kisses are one of life's delights._

_4) Small boys (and big ones) NEED to get dirty._

_5) Not everything can be colour coded and fucking catalogued. Life has to hold surprises._

_6) Women who marry for security end up like shrivelled up prunes who don't laugh enough, never cum and are most likely to jump off a bridge in their middle years._

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The best kept secret in Lima, Ohio was that Noah "Puck" Puckerman loved to sing.

The louder the better. Around his house he sang until his voice rattled the rafters; in his truck he cruised around with the windows rolled down, singing along to the radio and tapping his thumbs on the steering wheel in time to the music. More often than not it was classic rock but occasionally, when the mood called for it, jazz, country or a little bit of rhythm and blues found its way onto the rotation.

In short, he sang when he was happy and today had been a pretty fucking good day - even if he had wrenched his shoulder pulling out the engine from Matt Rutherford's '69 Camaro.

Of course, there was one place where he could really unleash his passion for singing and that was in the shower; Puck was indulging himself now.

As the hot water pounded down on him, soothing the aches in his shoulder muscles, he belted out his all time favourite tune. The bathroom was steamy, despite the wide open window but he hadatheory that steam greatly improved the acoustics.

"_Jerimiah was a bullfrog, ba, ba, BAH! He was a good friend of mine. Ba, ba, BAH!" _he sang into the soap, tossing his head in time to the 'Ba, ba, BAH's'.

Every window in the small two bedroom house was open, letting the cool early evening air chase out the heat of the day. His home and the attached engine repair shop were on the outskirts of town, just far enough out of Lima so that the only the crickets could hear him when he got in one of those I-just-gotta-sing moods.

"_I never understood a single word he said, but I helped him a-drink his wine. And he always had some mighty fine wine."_

But it wasn't the crickets answering the void of silence as his voice paused readying for the chorus, it was an incessant knocking of knuckles on the glass pane beside his front entry.

Puck frowned, considering this a breach of his privacy and debated not answering the door at all. No one knew he sang_. No one_. Except a long, long time ago, when in a moment of pure madness, he had sang someone a love song.

_**Don't go there **_he warned himself darkly, his earlier happiness completely evaporating.

Though he tried to outwait it, the knocking persisted, more determined that ever and Puck's frown turned into a scowl.

Whether he was mad about remembering an affair that had ended badly, embarrassed he'd been caught singing or furious that the intruder simply didn't have the fucking good sense to go away, Puck was just plain pissed as he shut off the water. Slinging a faded blue towel low around his hips, he stomped out of the bathroom and towards the front door, trailing water all over the carpet in his wake.

Who the hell would dare to intrude on his most private moment?

If he hazarded a guess, he'd bet it was his old high school buddy Mike Chang, another of the town's most sought after bachelors and a fellow founding member of the Not Getting' Married - No Fucking Way, Not Fucking Ever Club, known by it's initials N.G.M-N.F.W.N.F.E.C, who often dropped by in the evenings with a six pack of beer. They'd spend the evening either watching ESPN on the big screen or out tinkering in the shop on whatever old car Puck had discovered at the scrap heap and had made his latest project.

If it was Mike, it would be all over Lima by first thing tomorrow that Puck sang about bullfrogs in the shower. Maybe that type of gossip wasn't big fodder for any other place, but Lima was a small town, _too fucking small,_ and as such, always a little short on news, big or small. The most trivial snippets of private information could tear through the town like wildfire and next thing Puck would know, his phone would be ringing off the hook with all the old bats from Temple wanting to know why Puck was serenading amphibians- he had a lousy feeling he'd be subjected to Kermit the Frog jokes for a long, long time.

Stalking down the hall now, intent on reminding Mike about the time he'd gotten drunk at Santana Lopez's graduation party and made out with his cousin Tina, Puck stopped short in the shadows of the entry, staring at the silhouette of a woman. She was framed in the last rays of late afternoon sunshine through the large black mesh window of his front screen door.

She was turned away from the entry, looking out over the overgrown shrubbery surrounding his front porch, hugging herself against the cool breeze. She was wearing a pencil skirt that fell to her knees and a sleeveless white blouse that on anyone else might have looked business-like, but not on her.

On her, that skirt hugged the seductive swell of her hips and the finest ass he had the pleasure of gazing at in a long while. Oh yes. Even though her back was to him, he knew exactly who it was.

Her dark hair was wrapped up in a tight bun, the light breeze playing with the strands that had escaped their confines as her natural mocha highlights shimmered in the fading sunlight.

For a moment his mouth went dry and he remembered the man he had been once, almost a lifetime ago when he'd sung that woman a love song.

He reminded himself sharply he wasn't that man any longer.

Knotting the towel more firmly around his waist, he continued down the hall, every step increasing his fury.

_**Five years.**_

Five fucking years and there'd been no letters, no phone calls, no explanation at all. And now she'd just decided to waltz back into his life?

His plan was to slam the door and lock it. He'd been bewitched once by Shelby Corcoran and that one time was more than enough for this lifetime.

And with that thought in mind, he was surprised when his anger propelled him past the screen door and onto the porch, overriding everything in him that was reasonable.

He took the slenderness of her shoulder in his hand and spun her around, and without fully registering the shock on her face, he pulled her hard into him and kissed her.

It was not a "hello, how you doing?" kind of kiss.

It was punishing, savage. It held the bitter sting of love and betrayal; the hurt of five years of having to ask himself_ why_.

She was shoving against him frantically, trying to escape his hold, his lips. He felt momentary satisfaction that her strength was so puny compared to his, but then it registered, _somewhere_, that something was wrong,

Shelby trying to escape his lips? That wasn't right. She would have got off on the savagery and would have been giving it back to him, as good as she got. _Hell_, she would have drawn blood by now.

As he was arriving at these conclusions, he felt the woman surrender beneath the punishing onslaught of his mouth and the struggle stopped.

He was contemplating this development, letting the doubt take hold as his lips moved lazily over hers, when she yanked free of him and belted him upside of his head with her purse. A purse, from the feel of it, that was packing bricks.

Puck staggered back from her and regarded her with narrowed eyes.

He felt as though he'd been hit with more than a brick as he studied the exquisite face that looked back at him.

"How dare you!" she spluttered angrily, glaring at him as she began to wipe away at the front of her blouse, now saturated from his shower-damp skin, as if she could erase his touch from herself.

Oh, it was Shelby's face alright, well a version of it anyway. He could never forget those cheek bones; the slightly too large nose and the small dent in her chin that deepened as she smiled. But that clipped tone was definitely _not_ Shelby. And under the sooty sweep of thick eyelashes he realised the eyes were different. Shelby's had been a lighter brown, the color of cheap whiskey. These eyes were a dark chocolate, wide and seemingly innocent.

Of course, with contact lenses anything could happen. Puck studied the woman more intently.

The anger and slight fear were real. And right behind that was softness. The same softness he'd felt in those lips. On closer inspection, it wasn't Shelby's mouth either. Shelby had thinner lips; this woman's were wider, generous, more…_sensual._

As he contemplated this, she dipped her tongue out to run it over her bottom lip, now swollen and wet from the ferocity of his kiss.

He swore under his breath. Had he just kissed the living daylights out of a complete stranger? One who'd done nothing but have the misfortune of showing up on his door just as he was remembering another woman, one who'd broken his heart and hightailed it out of town with half his Zeppelin collection? _**Bitch**_**.**

He crossed his arms defensively over his broad chest, Her eyes followed his movements and it was blatantly obvious she didn't like the fact that all that separated her and his nakedness was a threadbare towel that had seen better days.

She didn't like it one bit.

Her gaze averted and she dropped her eyes to study her blouse intently, as though she expected daffodils to bloom from her nipples.

"You've ruined my blouse." She said finally, her voice stiff and controlled. "It's silk."

"Yeah I figured."

She gave him a look that implied she doubted very much whether he would know the first thing about silk, so of course he felt compelled to prove her wrong and do nothing to correct the horrid first impression he'd made so far.

"Silk is always see-through when it's wet." He explained easily with the beginnings of a smirk.

Her eyes grew round and her mouth formed an indignant O. She blushed and crossed her arms defensively over her breasts.

"Too late," he found himself teasing, "I saw. Purple, lace trim….nice." he arched his eyebrow in approval and her color deepened, her neck and the top of her chest also tinging a rosy pink.

"I am appalled by your lack of decorum." She seethed, her hand twitching.

"Don't hit me with that purse again." He warned, his temple still smarting from her earlier attack.

'Well then," she paused. "I must insist you refrain from staring at me like that!"

"Like what?"

"Like a complete…" she paused again, thinking hard "Lizard!" she proclaimed eventually in disgust.

Now Puck, avowed bachelor that he was, prided himself on the fact that the combination of his good looks, charm and disarming grin could turn heads and make hearts beat faster.

A lizard? Really? Well that was just insulting.

He had half a mind to kiss her again, even if it did earn him another wallop with her purse.

He studied her more closely.

Well no wonder she was showing immunity to his charms. Her close physical resemblance to Shelby had him automatically assume she was his former lover- just hotter and younger. The youthfulness of her features and the perkiness of her breasts didn't sway his assumption at all. It was amazing what plastic surgeons could do these days. They could turn even the roughest of fuggos into somebody completely bang-worthy with just the swipe of a knife.

And Shelby had never been unattractive, but reasonable theories aside, he had to give in to the suspicion that had been forming over the last few minutes.

She just wasn't _her_.

The blouse was buttoned right up to her throat and her thick locks had been forced into a no-nonsense bun. Her makeup was minimal and understated and her lips were now pursed into an expression of disapproval that was distinctly schoolmarmish.

"What can I do for you?" he asked curtly. She might not be Shelby, but she had to be related. A twin sister?

No, he decided immediately, his gaze once again sweeping over her face; a younger sister. Puck had always had a thing for older woman and Shelby had a good 10 years on him. A much younger sister then, since the woman in front of him looked to be a few years younger than the 30 he claimed.

Well whoever she was, nothing about Shelby was going to be good news. He felt it in his gut.

She released an arm from where it guarded her wet chest and swiped at her lips as if removing his germs from them. Her arm returned immediately to its protective position and then she looked around.

In her eyes, he saw the moment it registered that she was on the front porch of a strange house with a near-naked man who had just kissed her and the nearest neighbor was decidedly _not_ within shouting distance.

Under different circumstances, he would have tried to reassure her. But Shelby meant danger and this woman, with whatever ties she held to the other woman she so strongly resembled, made him shift uneasily.

And even if this particular brunette looked like the least threatening person in the world, he had tasted her lips; there was something in that kiss that was not nearly as cool as she was pretending to be.

He saw now that his visitor was slender, petite. Shelby had been slender too, but voluptuous at the same time. And Shelby had preferred and perfected the sexy look- her clothing had always been tight and revealing. This woman's tailored skirt reinforced the impression of a school teacher and the whole package screamed "prim and proper", Mary Poppins arriving at her assignment.

Shelby had been anything but prim and proper. Still, the danger crackled in the air around this less vivacious copy.

"What can I do for you?" He repeated, his voice deliberately sharp.

"Nothing," she decided. "I've made a mistake." She took a shaky step backwards and then turned to flee.

Puck didn't honestly know whether he felt regret or relief that the mystery of her visit was going to go unsolved. He supposed he might be leaning towards regret, since he had to bite back the "Wait" that wanted to pop out of his mouth.

In her haste to get away from him, the toe of her ballet flat caught and she stumbled on the second stair. Instinct made him reach for her, but it was too late. She went flying; he could hear the dull thud of her head hitting the cement pad at the bottom of the steps and it made his heart leap with trepidation.

He was at her side in a second, animosity forgotten.

She looked at him, dazed. 'Don't touch me," She ordered groggily.

Her forehead was cut, blood trickling from the split at an alarming speed.

"I said, don't touch me!" She insisted again as he picked her up. She was so light; it didn't even strain his sore shoulder to lift her.

"Put me down!" She demanded shrilly. Her eyes closed and she winced, the effort of making that small command obviously beyond her right now.

He was ignoring her anyway, conscious of the fact that his towel was in danger of slipping as he carried her back up the stairs.

He coaxed the screen door open with his toe and went straight through to the kitchen. When he set her upright in a chair he instantly felt the cold where her warmth had been huddled against his bare chest.

Immediately, she tried to stand up. He noticed that even after all the excitement, she was still managing to keep her wet chest protected from his gaze.

"Sit." Puck directed sternly and took a minute to do some hasty adjustments to his towel.

She glared at him defiantly and took one wobbly step towards the door before sinking reluctantly back into the seat, smartly determining the task was too much for her.

Her eyes darted around his kitchen, which was decidedly _NOT_ in the market for a Home Beautiful magazine spread.

The room was plainly furnished and there were four days worth of dishes piled up in his sink. Her gaze came to rest on the engine he had taken apart on his countertop, the grease smeared over the laminate top and the nuts and bolts strewn haphazardly over the bench.

Puck thought it was just like a woman to notice the decorating-or lack there of- at the very same time she was entertaining the notion that she was in mortal danger. And from the wary way in which she was casting him looks from underneath her eyelashes, he knew she was apprehensive.

His dog Hank, a nice mix between a blue heeler and border collie, had been sleeping peacefully under the table. He chose that moment to rise and stretch his solid black and white body before plopping his large head on her lap. He sniffed impolitely, blinking up at her with warm brown eyes, and started to drool.

She squealed, dropping her arms from their defensive position and pushed the dog's head from her lap.

"Filthy beast," she muttered, wiping at the wet spot Hank had left high on her thigh,

Okay, now Puck could tolerate a lot and he knew that not only did Hank have a tendency to drool but his breath left a lot to be desired; however, filthy beast was more than a tad harsh.

He would pronounce her medically sound and then Miss Uptight and Prissy was out of here.

He held up his fingers. "How many?"

"Three." She answered with a roll of her eyes and another glare.

"What day is it?"

"June 24th."

"When's your birthday?"

"How would you know if I had that right?"

Good point. And the fact that she could make it meant her brain wasn't too badly addled. It was time to kick her hot little ass to the curb.

It was on the tip on his tongue to suggest, not unkindly, that she get the fuck out but she looked like the type that would sue if she ended up with a concussion or something. So, reluctantly he turned from her and retrieved a half empty packet of peas from his freezer compartment, holding it against her forehead.

The woman's hand reached up to hold the makeshift ice pack in place and her fingers brushed against his. Hazel met chocolate and their gazes held; she was the first to look away.

Her eyelashes fluttered shut for a moment before she struggled to stand. He pushed her gently back down into her seat with a sense of déjà vu, sure they had just completed this little dance.

"Just relax." He said, letting his hand rest on her shoulder for a second. "Take it easy, you took a nasty bump to the head there."

Her gaze flicked to the door and he sighed. "Look, I'm not going to hurt you." He tried to reassure her, leaning back against the counter and looking back at her in what he hoped was a reassuring manner.

"Then why did you do that?" she accused with wide eyes.

For a moment he thought she was suggesting he had knocked her down the stairs himself.

"What exactly did I do?"

"You kissed me!"

"Oh that." He shrugged like it was nothing, when in actual fact the taste of her lips was lingering sweetly on his mouth. "I thought you were someone else."

She pondered that and understanding dawned on her face. It was clear that she understood the passionate nature of his relationship with her look-alike.

"You are Eli Puckerman, aren't you?"

He flinched at the use of his middle name. Only Shelby had ever called him that, probably because she knew how much it pissed him off.

"My name's Noah actually." He replied and then hastened to correct himself. "Or Puck. Everyone calls me Puck."

"Puck." She tried it out and frowned, blinking those big doe eyes at him. "I prefer Noah," she decided seriously and he fought the unexplainable urge to smile.

"My name is Rachel Berry." She offered, sticking her chin out resolutely. "I believe you were acquainted with my mother, Shelby Corcoran."

**_Her mother?_** His gaze swept over her once more. She had to be around 25, 26 at a stretch, _maybe_. Though she'd never actually confirmed it, he'd believed Shelby to be around 35 when he'd known her.

"Your mother?" he asked, incredulously. "How old are you?"

"29." Rachel supplied simply.

"Fuck me."

Rachel shot him a reproachful look at his use of the expletive.

"Your MOTHER?" He repeated again, his tone now sceptical. There was just no way. "Shelby never mentioned anything about a daughter." He informed her needlessly.

Rachel nodded in understanding. "I hadn't assumed she would have talked about me." She stated, unsurprised.

"I knew her briefly." He kept his voice curt, not a hint in that cold tone that he'd once contemplated putting a ring on the finger of the woman they were discussing.

She took a deep breath. "She died."

Two words. He registered them slowly, waiting for his gut to clench or his head to spin or something. But he felt oddly devoid of emotion. For him, Shelby had died a long time ago.

He didn't know what to say. Sorry? He wasn't sure that he was.

Puck was glad when the phone rang, giving him a chance to think.

He snatched up the receiver. "Mrs Raventhorpe? Yeah it's ready, the alternator was completely shot." He listened. "A hundred and fifty bucks. You can pick it up anytime tomorrow. My pleasure, see you then."

He hung up and stared at the wall next to where the phone was mounted. He wished it had of been a longer call. Maybe Matt calling to check on the Camaro or something. Anything that required more of him.

He finally tuned back to her. Rachel Berry, Shelby's _daughter_. He shook his head again at the absurdity of it.

Rachel was gazing at him, searchingly.

"When did she die?" He asked reluctantly.

Her eyes were cloudy with pain and he didn't think it had anything to do with the cut or the rapidly developing bump on her head.

"Nearly a year ago."

"And why are you telling me? Why now?" Puck pressed uneasily.

"I don't know." She looked away and the telltale flush returned to her face.

He could hear something in her voice. It had been in Shelby's voice too: mysterious and seductive, with a touch of vulnerability.

It was a combination that made a man weak with the want to protect them. But there was a lightness in Rachel's tone, even now, as grave as it was. She had a musical lilt to her words and he wondered if she could sing.

"Are you from Long Island too?" Shelby had grown up in Queens, she had told him, and lived there for most of her adult life as well. Puck had met her in Manhattan when he'd gone there one weekend for a Hockey game. They had met in a smoky Blues bar and after a particularly raunchy weekend spent holed up in his hotel room, she'd packed a single bag and followed him back to Lima, where they'd shacked up together for 6 months before she had up and left town without so much as a goodbye. It had been the first and last time he'd ever cohabitated with a woman.

"Boston actually." Rachel answered. "My fathers and I moved to New York when I was 9, but I live on Long Island now, yes."

"Father_s_?" he asked, emphasizing the plural.

"I have two," she confirmed. "Shelby was my birth mother, she gave me up when I was a baby. My fathers' were one of the first homosexual couples to adopt in the eighties." She boasted, a hint of pride in the small smile that curved at her lips.

Puck just stared at her. "Look-"

"Rachel" she reminded him when he paused.

He shot her a look. He remembered her name, he was just trying to wrap his head around it all.

"Rachel," he repeated, "I didn't know your mother very well. We were together for a few months but didn't get around to doing a lot of talking, if you know what I mean."

The brunette screwed up her nose at his implication.

"If you came here hoping that I could tell you stuff about her, you're out of luck. I'm only just now beginning to realize that I didn't really know her at all." He looked away as he admitted that last part.

He was contemplating the scuffed floor when he felt the warmth of her palm press against his forearm and squeeze comfortingly. He looked down in surprise as her small hand came to rest on his arm, just above his wrist. Puck stared at her slim fingers; she had cute hands.

"I'm sorry." She offered softly, the packet of peas rustling in her other hand as she shifted. "Shelby was," she pursed her lips thoughtfully, paused and finally settled on "Incredibly selfish."

"She often acted without regard for others or thought for the consequences of those actions."

He could get lost in those eyes, he decided as he gazed into her hypnotizing depths. With a shake of his head, he reeled himself in.

"So you did know her?" He couldn't contain his curiosity. Rachel was as much as an enigma as the woman who had bore her, and apparently he was intrigued by them both.

She nodded. "My fathers gave me the details of my adoption when I turned 18 and encouraged me to search for her, if that was what I wanted. I met her for the first time when I was 21 and we endeavoured to keep in contact over the years."

"You came a long way to tell me about your mom." He noted and she chewed her bottom lip.

"I did." Rachel confirmed and he knew, as his stomach sunk, that she had lied before. She knew exactly why she'd come - she just wasn't saying.

"And now that I have, I'll leave you in peace. Have a pleasant evening."

Without another word she turned and headed for the door, still clutching the bag of frozen peas.

Hank got up and padded after her obediently, like she was his new best friend. She gave the dog a final glance of distaste and the teaspoon of sympathy he'd begun to feel for her evaporated.

Who could not like Hank, with his woeful brown eyes and slowly wagging stub of a tail? Puck followed her out the door as well, holding Hank by the collar at the foot of the stairs. The dog whined pitifully and Puck patted him soothingly.

So he didn't want her to go huh? That was strange. Hank was usually such a good judge of character.

Rachel negotiated the stairs, this time without incident and he glanced beyond her trim figure to the little blue Nissan parked in his drive. He made note of the Empire State license plates. It looked like an older model, those things went forever.

"You should have used the phone." He called out to her as she reached for the door handle. "You could have saved yourself the drive."

This time, he couldn't say that he was sad to see her go. Her appearance troubled him. People didn't travel all that way just to deliver bad news in person.

Rachel paused and looked back at him.

"I could have," she agreed. "But then I'd never have known."

With a final nod in his direction, she slid behind the wheel and started the engine.

Well that was fucking cryptic. _**Known what?**_

She had buckled her seatbelt and before she turned her head to back out of the driveway, she peered through the windshield and their eyes met again. Something undefinable passed between them and incredibly, Puck found himself short of breath.

_**What was that look?**_

Her visit had left more questions than answers and Puck didn't like it.

The phone rang again from inside and he tore his gaze away from the tail lights of her vehicle as it turned the corner and disappeared from view. If that was Chang on the line, he was going to fucking kill him. Dude couldn't have thrown him a life line 10 minutes ago when he needed it?

Puck gave a sharp whistle and Hank followed him obediently back into the house as he pushed all thoughts of the unexpected visit from his mind.

Shelby was gone, and now Rachel Berry was too. It would do no good to linger on the taste of her or the sight of small, pert breasts encased in purple lace, pressing against wet, white silk.

He'd been caught up in the allure of a pint-sized brunette before and had only just barely survived it; he wouldn't make that mistake again.

_**A/N 2: Review?**_


	2. Fucking Chang

_**A/N: Thanks for all your positive reviews guys! Sorry if the thought of Shelby/Puck makes you barf, but come on! He's Puck. Mother F**king is just what he does and it's not like he knew Rachel at the time, lol.**_

_**Thanks to my beta-girls as always for 'Americanizing' my stuff. Without you two, half the people reading wouldn't have a clue as to what I'm trying to say! You guys rock!**_

_**P.S Sorry the update is so long…If you haven't guessed, I'm a little wordy…**_

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"You should be relieved." Rachel told herself out loud on the short drive to the rundown motel she was staying at. "He's not the right man for the job. Not even close."

Despite the conviction with which she made that statement, she felt woozy and hoped that the bump on her forehead was exclusively to blame.

She knew it wasn't.

It was the fury of that kiss. The pure, unbridled passion of it- passion she hadn't been certain up until that point, could really even exist at all outside of the trashy romance novels she most certainly _did not_ indulge in.

"Ugh," she groaned, trying to convey her disgust with the man, but failed miserably.

She couldn't even persuade herself that his mouth on hers hadn't been appallingly delicious. He had perfect lips; hard and demanding, yet soft and pliant at the same time. If she hadn't returned to her senses in time to hit him with her purse, she wasn't certain what the outcome might have been.

She had an awful suspicion that something wild in her might have risen up to meet his fury and his passion and that simply would not do. Eli Puckerman was not a man she could afford to get tangled up in.

No, she reminded herself with a shake of her head, not Eli, _Noah_. Noah Puckerman.

"Ugh," she said again, drawing her brows together as she frowned, attempting to express her supposed distain. A quick glance at her expression in the rear view mirror confirmed that her second attempt at denying her attraction to him was just as unconvincing as the first.

His arms around her had taken her captive, held her tight to his hard masculine body like bands of steel. She had been forced to feel the slippery wet contours of his chest and the rock hardness of pure muscle under the expanse of all that naked skin.

The effect, in combination with the unrestrained sensuality of those lips, had been rather dizzying. Really, any self-respecting modern woman should not have reacted with fervour to such a primitive display of strength and aggression.

But she had indeed reacted with fervour – there was no denying it. She had felt that heat and trembling at her core- right before smacking the man with her purse.

As she recalled the encounter, Rachel felt the warmth flood her cheeks and the telltale tingle between the apex of her thighs.

She glanced again at herself in the rear view mirror. "Traitor," she pouted at her reflection.

"He is not the man for the job." She repeated again, for the benefit of her weaker self. A weaker self that saw no point in denying the fact she might have liked that kiss- a little bit anyway.

She tapped her nails on the steering wheel as she collected her thoughts, lifting one finger up and counting off.

"One," she started, "he came to the door dressed in nothing more than a towel."

Rather than seeing that point as a fault, her suddenly undisciplined mind insisted on recollecting that image in all its lewd detail. Noah Puckerman had looked like some kind of ferocious warrior. With a faint shudder that she claimed was revulsion, she recalled the intensity of his gaze and the way his eyes had smouldered and darkened.

She'd never seen such impressive abdominals, not even on the Calvin Klein underwear models on the billboards in Times Square; his skin was bronzed and unblemished, his shoulders broad and his chest carved.

In other words, he was completely intimidating, fiercely masculine and gloriously strong.

Nothing about the worn photo she had found amongst Shelby's things, when she'd finally mustered the energy to sort through her late mother's belongings, had prepared her for the reality of the man.

Sure, in the picture 'Eli' Puckerman had been handsome, but the picture had failed to capture his vitality, his essence.

In perfect detail she recounted the image: He'd been dressed in faded jeans and a dark bluish-purple plaid shirt, open at the throat; his backside had been braced against the hood of a Forest green Chevy, one leg bent at the knee with his foot braced on the bumper, his arms folded across that broad chest.

His hair had been different in the photo, longer than the short almost buzz cut he sported now. In the picture, his dark brown hair had been falling carelessly over his forehead and his eyes had engaged the camera candidly, bright hazel and laughter-filled. His grin had seemed open and boyish and yes, frankly, a little devil may care.

When Rachel had stood on his porch that afternoon and heard the song, robust and raspy, bursting out of the open windows she thought she had found the man in the photograph.

But there had been nothing open and boyish about the angry man who appeared at the door in a towel; the man she'd left still near-naked and apparently unperturbed about it on his front porch only minutes ago.

She shivered again, thinking about how his biceps had bulged as he crossed his arms across his chest. The muscles of his forearms had rippled with a masculine ease and strength that made Rachel falter and go weak at the knees.

Well there was no wonder she had stumbled on the stairs, she reasoned. And no wonder Shelby had succumbed to him, not that Rachel wanted to think about that.

The definite contrast between the man in the photograph and the one she had encountered today was startling. Rachel couldn't help but contemplate whether Shelby herself had anything to do with the marked changes in him, though judging by his almost non reaction to the news of her death, Rachel was almost certain she had. She couldn't determine what bothered her more. The possibility that Shelby had hardened him or the chance that it was her that had brought out his care-free light-heartedness in the first place.

Rachel's stomach gnawed away at her and she suspected it might be the second one which in itself posed a whole other set of questions, ones that she didn't care to ponder.

"Stop it." She snapped at herself. Shelby and Noah's relationship was no business of hers. Taking a deep, steadying breath, Rachel drove the remaining half mile to her accommodations and parked in the space directly in front of the reception at the Desert Oasis Motor Inn.

The fact that the motel was thousands of miles from the nearest desert and was certainly no oasis, seemed to escape the notice of the people who had named it. But still, since she had made this trip on such short notice, it was the only commercial accommodation left when she had looked online last week.

Rachel went to check in and woke up the elderly gentleman who was caretaking the desk. Once awake, the proprietor took his time registering her stay, showing an inordinate interest in prying her life secrets from her. Thankfully, after securing the key to unit number 15 in her hands, Rachel was able to escape with most of her secrets intact.

Entering the dimly lit room, she was relieved to see that despite the modest exterior, her unit was clean and cozy. She sank gratefully onto the plush mattress and realized, ridiculous, that she was still in possession of Noah Puckerman's now mushy peas.

Rachel tossed the packet into the waste basket opposite her and bit her lip indecisively.

_**I should call Finn**_ she thought, but made no movement to reach for her cell phone.

Finn Hudson was, after all, the front running candidate for the job. On her birthday, three months before, he had placed a tasteful diamond ring- nothing ostentatious- on her finger and asked her, in that awkward endearing way of his, to be his wife.

But that had been before Rachel had the misfortune to find that photo of a laughing Noah Puckerman.

Finn owned Hudson's Hardware and Electricals. He never dressed in towels. He owned a neat as-a-pin home in the seaside port of Mystic, Long Island and despite the fact that he was indeed male and like all men, seemed to have an ingrained appreciation for cars, he never would have in a million years taken an engine apart on his kitchen counter.

He took great pride in his kitchen, and given his line of work, especially his stainless steel appliances. Finn had a particularly overwhelming fetish for his double door refrigerator, with built in ice machine and temperature controlled water dispenser. He was known to wax on lyrically about its many features and specifications and Rachel always listened with wry affection, even as he'd recounted its many benefits for what seemed like the hundredth time over dinner a few days before.

Another point in his favor was that after a particularly nasty experience as a boy with a neighbor's pit bull who had bitten him on the arm, Finn shared Rachel's dislike of dogs and was the proud owner of a temperamental feline, affectionately known as Abby the Tabby.

In short, Finn's home was a stark contrast to Puckerman's Lube and Engine Repair where the attached house was nearly lost in the overgrown shrubbery and tall grass that was long overdue for a cut. The house itself was in dire need of a paint job and was overshadowed by the grey tin garage that was almost double its size.

Though Rachel didn't necessarily believe neatness pertained to character, the fact that he had answered his door in a towel and proceeded to kiss the breath out of a perfect stranger…well that added up to a pretty clear picture as far as she was concerned.

Then there was the fact that Noah had not been wearing a wedding ring. Again, not strictly another mark against him, but did her noticing the fact that he wore no ring mean that she was still considering him as a possibility?

How could she be so foolish? She had always considered herself to be level headed and pragmatic. Foolishness was not something she could afford now that she was embarking on this task that held such monumental importance.

"Rachel, this is the most important decision you'll ever make." She reminded herself sternly. In all fairness to Noah Puckerman, she couldn't in good conscience, cross him off her list because she may have caught him at a bad moment.

Okay, so he had accosted a complete stranger with his lips; it was evident that he had mistaken her for her mother, a realization that made her wince.

And yes, he had come to the door wearing a towel, but in all fairness, it was after 6pm and he probably assumed she was one of his buddies.

Rachel exhaled loudly,

He'd had an engine on his counter, that was true but maybe that wasn't a fatal flaw. And the dog was horrible, but at least it was friendly, which was more than could be said for Finn's cat.

_**Careful Rachel,**_ the more sardonic of her selves drawled. _**Anyone would think you were actually leaning towards Team Puckerman.**_

She'd come all this way, she could not let emotion cloud her reasoning now. The man was her half-brother's biological father and her all-important task, her life's mission had become to find little Eli a father.

Rachel had known who Noah Puckerman was from the instant she had found his picture amongst Shelby's things, even before she realized her brother had been named for the man in it. He had the same ears, the same nose and the same warm hazel eyes as the boy she tucked in every night.

And now, since Shelby's death (and truthfully for a long time before that) for all intents and purposes, Rachel was Eli's mother and according to the will, his legal guardian.

Rachel had given up carving a niche for herself on Broadway shortly after Eli's birth over 4 years ago, when his arrival had proven too much for Shelby to handle. She'd packed up her Manhattan apartment and taken up teaching, at a small private school on Long Island. Her life was now all about doing right by that child.

She had begun researching how to raise a happy, well-adjusted child shortly after the paperwork had become official. Rachel had been dismayed to learn happy, well-adjusted children came largely from happy, well-adjusted families, with _two_ parents. She'd been further dismayed to read that the same-sex parent had a particularly important role in the child's development, a study that Rachel herself could not discount.

She had grown up with the absence of a female role model and as much as she adored her two fathers, she couldn't deny that she just hadn't felt complete until Shelby had come into her life. Her teenage years had been awkward. Having to deal with menstruation, hormones, boys and body image issues without the comforting guide of a woman had done (what she sometimes feared) irrevocable damage to her self image.

Rachel never wanted Eli to feel like he was missing out on anything and she knew, that as hard as she tried to be a good parent there would just be some things he would need to learn that could only come from a strong male presence in his life.

So Rachel had been conducting an informal father search all over Long Island and beyond. Her plan was simple- she would systematically find the right father for her half-brother, marry him and create the picture perfect family; creating an environment in which Eli would grow up happy, feeling safe and secure in the knowledge that he was loved.

She had seen it as a good thing that her own emotions were not clouding the issue. She'd seen what too much emotion could do to a life, namely Shelby's.

Finn Hudson, solid, reliable and infinitely stable was her choice.

Or he had been, up until Rachel had found that photograph. And then her sense of fair play had said that if indeed the man in the picture was Eli's father, he at least deserved a shot at being a father to the son he obviously had no idea even existed..

So after months of deliberation, Rachel had got into her car and embarked on the 11 hour drive down to meet him. Yes he'd made a bad first impression, but what if that wasn't the whole story? Someday, when Eli was older and started to have questions, she would be accountable for the decisions she was making right now.

She had to be cool and pragmatic. She could not allow her feelings or emotions to interfere with the facts or lead her to act on impulse. So, despite her initial misgivings, tomorrow she would conduct informal interviews with Noah Puckerman's friends and neighbors. She prayed she would find out Noah was an unsavoury character with three ex-wives, a criminal record and an out of control drinking problem.

Only then could she go home and happily marry Finn, her conscience clear.

Though she wished, suddenly weary as she flopped back onto the motel's standard sized mattress, she could put a lid back on that box she had opened and claim to have never found that photo with the name Eli Puckerman scrawled on the back in her mother's handwriting.

* * *

Puck, lying flat on his back underneath Mr. Thompson's car, gave a mighty heave, ignoring the pain in his shoulder as the rusty bolt came loose. He took it off with much more vengeance than was strictly required and tossed it aside.

The phone rang, startling him, and he bumped his head against the underside of the engine.

"MOTHERFUCKING CUNT!"

Not a fucking good day so far, he thought, sliding out from under the car.

"Puckerman's," he answered curtly, cradling the receiver between his ear and his shoulder as he wiped the grease off his hands with an oil-stained rag.

"Yo, it's Chang." Mike greeted in his usual easygoing way.

_**You son of a bitch**_, Puck mentally cursed his friend out. _**Where the fuck were you last night when I needed it to be you standing on my porch instead of her?**_

"What do you want?"

"Geez," he could hear Mike chuckle on the other end. "You have like, no customer service skills at all."

"Yeah, well it's just you." Puck grumbled, kicking at an empty jerry can. "I'm having a bad day."

"It's 10 past nine!"

"I know."

Mike laughed again. "Well I don't know if what I'm going to tell you will cheer you up or piss you off even further," he hedged.

Puck sighed. "Lay it on me."

"Ok, so there was this stranger in the diner this morning having breakfast," Mike launched in enthusiastically. "Female, kind of hot in a librarian kind of way. You know, the kind where a guy fantasizes about yanking the elastic from her hair and-"

"And this news would cheer me up how?" Puck cut Mike off before he went too far down the elastic from the hair scenario. He knew full well that those kinds of thoughts could make a man spend the whole night wide awake, staring at the ceiling.

_**Don't think about Rachel Berry**_, he chanted, but it was too late.

Elastic from her hair, purple lace under a sheer damp blouse, eyes the colour of hot chocolate..…these were the thoughts churning around in his head that ultimately led to his foul mood that morning.

"Because," Mike stated with glee, busting at the seams to divulge the information. "Guess who the librarian-slash-goddess was asking about?"

"Bob Dunston?" Puck asked hopefully. Bob was another town bachelor. He was sixty-five, built like a brick house and changed his overalls only twice a year. He had politely declined the offer of an exclusive membership to the N.G.M.N.F.W.N.F.E Club, saying he would like to get married one day, if the right young lass came along.

Mike snorted, "Guess again." He said, obviously taking far too much delight in being the bearer of such good news.

Pucks head started to hurt. He hoped it was a delayed reaction to hitting it against the engine, but he knew it wasn't.

A man such as himself rose above this kind of chit chat and ordinarily when Mike called, attempting to pass on the latest dirt he acquired downtown (dude was such a fucking gossip) he would have told him he wasn't interested and have hung up the phone by now.

Maybe he could blame the throbbing in his temple from where it had connected with the engine for the regrettable fact that he stayed on the line, but he suspected it might have something to do with purple lace, see through blouses and chocolate eyes.

"I'll give you a hint," Mike said to Puck's silence. "You might have to think about trading in your membership to the N.G.M.N.F.W.N.F.E club."

Puck cursed again, "Mother FUCKER!"

"No." Mike returned easily after a beat. "That would be _you_."

"What? What exactly did she tell them?" he demanded angrily, _**did everyone in town know that he'd fucked her mother?**_ Sure his cougar exploits from his younger days were legendary, but having a walking, talking _29 year old _going around reminding people of that fact was fucking embarrassing. He's not sure any of the residents remembered Shelby all that well (they had been discreet anyway, too wrapped up in each other to venture beyond his front gate), so he didn't want anyone thinking he'd been screwing around with some saggy skinned, dried out spinster.

He lived a quite life these days, simple. He didn't want his bad reputation to make a revival and cause the nosy old gossips to say anything to his mom at temple that was likely to stir up more of her incessant bitching. _"Noah, when are you going to find a nice Jewish girl to settle down with?" _she was constantly harassing him. _"Noah, when am I going to be blessed with gorgeous Jewish grandchildren? It's like your not even trying. Don't you love your Ima?"_

Rachel Berry was embarrassing him. Going around town, asking questions about him, invading his privacy….Enough was enough!

The sane thing would be to ignore her and trust that she would just fuck the hell off. But of course, he chose to go the other route and 15 minutes later, after finally hanging up the phone with Chang who had barely paused to take a breath, a "Be Back Soon" sign was perched on the shop door and he was in his truck- Destination: Berry.

_**Of all the fucking nerve.**_ He drove by Upper Main street with its strip of low-to-mid budget motels and couldn't see the blue Nissan parked at any of them; nor was it any longer outside the diner she had eaten at that morning.

He wondered if that was it- she had just gone away, but he knew his restlessness would not ease until he knew for sure she and Lima had parted ways for good.

He began a slow patrol of Lima's residential blocks, thankful that the district was spaced out in a square like grid of streets, making his task easier.

Sure enough, five minutes later he saw her car parked out the front of Mrs. Raventhorpe's house. He was willing to bet that it was no coincidence that it was parked there, seeing as how he had uttered the older woman's name on the phone the night before, while the enemy had been trespassing in his camp- with his frozen peas clasped to her head.

Puck stalked up the path and rapped on the door, hard.

It took a full minute for Mrs. Raventhorpe to open the door and when she did, it was only a crack.

"Hello there, Noah. I'm not ready to pick up my vehicle just yet, I'm waiting for my daughter to stop by and assist me at the market first. I'll be by before lunch." She informed him in her brisk way, closing the door in his face before he had a chance to utter a word.

Puck frowned. She thought he was here about her car?

He supposed he could wait in his truck for Rachel to come out. He could pull the wires out from underneath the dash of her car so she couldn't escape without answering a few of the questions he had lined up for her, but that would be to playing into the game he was sure she was playing.

Plus, there was no way of knowing what Mrs. Raventhorpe was telling the woman. Mrs. Raventhorpe had seen him naked for fucks sake and she was old and batty enough to forget to mention the all-important detail that he'd been three years old at the time.

He paused, looking up and down the street to gauge if anyone was paying him any attention. The street was deserted. He pressed his face against the frosted glass panels beside the front door and peered into the darkened interior of the foyer.

No movement, nothing.

With a sigh and an eye roll heavenwards he jumped lithely over the porch rail and landed with a soft thud onto the grass below.

"I can't believe I'm doing this." He muttered to himself as he crept past the flowering Azalea bushes and ventured a peak into the living room window.

He darted a quick glance around the room and ducked. He could make out a large platter of cookies and a slender hand reaching out to secure one.

Puck crouched down, staring darkly at the dirt beneath his feet.

_**Those were his damn cookies**_. Mrs. Raventhorpe_ always _brought him a plate of her delicious oatmeal-raisin cookies when her car was serviced.

After a minute he gripped the window ledge and pulled himself up to peer into the living room again. His eyes swept pass the frail older woman and settled on the dark haired pain-in-his-ass that sat beside her.

Just as he suspected, Rachel Berry _was_ in there. Eating_ his_ cookies! Talking to a woman who had known him since he was a baby; a woman who had all sorts of personal information and anecdotes about him, which could be both potentially embarrassing and damaging if divulged.

What the hell was Rachel Berry playing at?

He plopped back down to kneel on the grass, his hands resting on his knees as his mind ticked over. Puck had no idea how long he sat there, but his thoughts were interrupted by someone clearing their throat.

"Ahem."

His head shot up and he saw Rachel standing on the porch, gazing at him with one perfectly sculptured eyebrow raised.

"What are you doing?" she inquired pleasantly as he scrambled to his feet, almost stumbling as his foot caught on the plastic sprinkler system.

He took a moment to give her a good once over. Her hair was up in a neat ponytail today, its length falling well past her shoulders. She was wearing another crisp white shirt, though this one was cotton, not silk, with capped sleeves and a pair of pressed black shorts that came to mid thigh. His gaze lingered at the expanse of toned, tanned leg on display. How had he not noticed those pins yesterday? Sure, her perky little breasts were distracting, pushed against her transparent shirt like they had been but he'd always been more of a leg man and Rachel Berry, _**well fuck**_, she had a set on her that would easily make his top 10 list.

Shit, probably the top 3 and to be fair, the other two spots were filled by a couple of ex cheerleaders, one of whom had gone on to become a dancer for the pussycat dolls, so yeah, Berry was in good company there.

"Maureen said she'd call the police is you kept on skulking around her bushes."

_**Maureen?**_ Well that was just fucking perfect. Was that actually a twinkle of amusement in her eyes? How dare she be laughing at his expense?

"What the hell do you think you're playing at Berry?" he asked as he stepped over to the porch, his tone low. He could see Mrs. Raventhorpe peering out from behind the living room curtains and smiled for her benefit, but the effect was more like a grimace.

"I'm not playing at anything," Rachel denied, unforthcoming. "I'm having tea. And cookies." She added as an afterthought.

Puck balled his fists, resisting the urge to shake her until her hair fell out of its elastic.

_**Why the fuck was he so obsessed with her hair and elastics anyway? Fucking Chang.**_

His eyes rested on her face and that was worse. Her lips were glossy and pink and now all he wanted to do was kiss that annoyingly blank expression from her face, wanted to break through the façade of detached coolness that belied the warmth of her gaze.

He tried to remember the last time a woman had infuriated him this much; had him straining to keep himself in check and not give into these uncomfortable urges to just act, when his brain was struggling to keep up and remind him that he ought to be giving this one a wide berth.

"Why are you doing this?" he bit out in poorly disguised impatience. 'What's with all the questions you've been asking about me? Why are you so hell-bent on creating problems in my life?"

Those warm brown eyes were expressive, he discovered, and her guilt was apparent as a telltale flush swept over her olive complexion.

"I don't see how me making a few innocent inquiries is creating problems for you." She replied reasonably, fiddling with the strap on her handbag.

"You don't huh? Well, let me tell you something, " Puck started, resting a hand on the rail as he looked up at her. "When someone starts asking if Noah Puckerman pays his bills on time, the next day it's the talk of the entire fucking town that I've probably gambled my life savings away in Vegas."

Remorse darkened her eyes and he paused, letting her think about it for a moment until he continued on. "And if someone asks if I've got an ex-wife or two stashed away somewhere, then the gossip in the supermarket lines and over and Patsy's Colour, Cut and Blow wave for the next fucking _month_ is the possibility that maybe I do have a secret wife or two."

"The next thing you know, there'll be sightings of me in nearby towns with strange woman and people will remember little 'incidents' that back up this fucking INSANE theory."

"Surely you exaggerate," she supposed uncertainly, looking guiltier than ever.

He ignored her, really hitting his stride as he ranted, "And does Noah Puckerman get drunk on a Friday night? Or a Monday? Or a Tuesday. I guarantee you there will be lookouts outside the high school auditorium for the next year, where the AA meetings are held twice a month, as people try to catch me making an entrance."

He was actually enjoying her discomfort and the fact that she had dropped her gaze to the toe of her impossibly white tennis shoes; so impossibly white, he was sure she polished them every night.

"And let's not forget the final question: Does Noah Puckerman like children? For fuck's sake woman, that and the fact that I had to track you down here is enough for Mrs. Raventhorpe to pick up the phone and put a wedding announcement in the Lima Daily Chronicle. I have a Jewish mother Berry, do you know what that means? This can of worms has just been blown wide-fucking-open and I'll never hear the fucking end of it."

He saw suddenly, she had not lowered her eyes out of shame alone. Her shoulders were shaking, suspiciously. Was she….was she crying? He hadn't been that harsh had he?

A giggle spilled from her lips and his gaze narrowed.

"Your laughing," he accused flatly.

She glanced up at him and shook her head vehemently. "No," she denied, but it was too late. Those generous lips curved upwards into a smile and a mischievous sparkle glinted in her eyes. If the sight of that grin hadn't suckered punched him in the gut, he would have snapped at her. But he couldn't - that was Shelby's smile.

"I fail to see what the fuck it is you find so fucking amusing." He ground out, his jaw clenching. Thankfully, her grin faded.

She looked at him appraisingly, squaring her shoulders.

"You don't strike me as the kind of man to be bothered by what the people of this town have to think about you."

He glowered at her, "Just because you've been digging up all the dirt there is to know about me, don't think you know one fucking thing about me."

"As a matter of fact, there is no dirt. You appear to be a highly respected member of this community."

Thank fuck. Looks like all those free lawn mower services were finally paying off.

The disappointment in her tone did not go unnoticed.

"The look on your face tells me you think I've somehow managed to fool the entire town," he remarked.

"Apparently," she returned evenly, "Most of who have been spared the sight of you in a towel."

_**Like you didn't fucking love it**_. He gave her a knowing look and she blushed.

"I find it strange that as a founding member of the Not Getting Married, no Fucking way, Not Fucking Ever Club, you would kiss a complete stranger on your porch."

_**Chang had a big mouth. That club was a fucking secret!**_

He took a moment to appreciate the fact that she'd dropped the F-Bomb. Twice. _**Fucking turn on.**_

"Kissing has nothing to do with marriage, unless you read a certain type of novel which I'm sure-as-shit you do." Her blush deepened, causing her entire face to glow. Score. "Look Berry, you still haven't told me what's up with this fucking espionage shit. Why the curiosity in the first place?"

She looked at the toe of her shoe again. So did he. The cleanliness of her tennis shoes pissed him off. Didn't she have anything better to do with her time? Didn't she have some douche at home? Chasing her around the living room, wanting to tug that elastic from her hair?

"You're not answering me," he prodded her when she remained silent.

"All right," Rachel sighed, "Shelby left you a small inheritance. I wanted to see if you deserved it before I gave it to you. I'll mail it."

He watched her carefully, noting the fact that she seemed unable to meet his eyes. This lying thing? She fucking sucked at it.

"Ok." He said slowly. "How about the fucking truth this time?"

Puck folded his arms over his chest and gave her a steely glare that never failed to psych Chang out on the freethrow line.

She took a deep breath and touched the top button of her shirt, ensuring that it was done up tight, not exposing an inch of herself to him.

"I found your picture amongst my mother's things." Rachel admitted finally, her voice steady as she continued to look anywhere but at him.

"And?"

"And," she repeated slowly, "I was…intrigued. I wanted to know more."

To her credit, her tone was convincing but Puck wasn't buying it.

"Nice angle, trying to appeal to my male ego." He praised her cynically. "But there's no way in hell you drove all the way down her because you found me irresistibly attractive. I'm a stud babe, I know it. But even I'm not that much of an incentive. You could have any guy at home you wanted, if you blinked those big brown eyes and loosened the fuck up a bit. You wouldn't have to drive cross country looking for me."

"I wasn't trying to appeal to your ego." She protested, her mouth drawing into a straight line. "For your information, I have a man at home. I'll most likely marry him before the end of the year."

Her enthusiasm for her upcoming nuptials was underwhelming at best so he didn't let the fact that she was spoken for bother him. It_ shouldn't_ bother him at all. He didn't want to think about her snuggling on the couch with some pansy, wondering at the sounds she'd make if she was pressed back into the cushions and-He cut that train of thought right off.

_**The fuck Puckerman?**_

He didn't want the details on what he'd bet was an excruciatingly boring love life and he did_ not_ want to think about how the flatness of her statement made the desire to kiss her again flair up so unexpectedly.

"I want the truth, now. A hard concept for you and your mother to grasp, I know,"

"Please don't say anything bad about my mother." The sudden ache in her voice, the way her façade just crumbled, if only for a second, nearly undid him. He wanted to haul her to his chest and bury his face in her hair, just holding her close until he was sure her lower lipped stopped trembling.

_**Where the fuck were these thoughts coming from?**_ He shook his head, trying to rid himself of the urge.

"Shelby was sick," she revealed quietly.

"I figured. When you said she had died, obviously I thought-"

"No," it was Rachel's turn to shake her head. "She died in a car accident. She was sick all her life. She had a mental disorder."

"Shelby?" He asked incredulously. _**There was no way…**_

Rachel nodded, seeing the doubt in his eyes. "You probably met her at an upswing. Lot's of energy? Unbelievable zest for life?"

Puck was staring at her, his mouth hanging open.

"Everybody loved her when she was like that." Rachel said gently.

"I didn't love her," he denied immediately, fiercely.

"I think you did," Her voice was still soft and he found himself glaring at her.

"That's bullshit. Why would you think that?"

"Because of the picture I found," Rachel lowered her eyes, "And because of the way you kissed me when you thought I was her."

If he'd had half a brain, he would have left that 'Be Back Soon' sign on his shop door and continued to drive until he was well outside the city limits. She'd have left and all this would have blown over by the time he returned.

Puck cursed his own stupidity then bulldozed on, more determined than ever to see the back of Rachel Berry- and not just so he could check out her ass again.

"Let's just cut through this crap fest. Honestly Rachel, why are you here?"

"I wanted to find out some things about the man my mother loved."

Puck snorted. "Again with the love shit. She didn't love me, Berry. What Shelby and I had, it was sex - plain and simple. Your mom was a pretty phenomenal fuck." He told her, mostly because he knew it would make her uncomfortable.

It did.

"We were together a couple of months and she moved on. That's it. If she loved me," he spat the word, "like you say, she wouldn't have left like she did."

"She loved you." Rachel repeated, quietly but with certainty. "You may not believe it, but I do. It's probably why she left so unceremoniously. She wouldn't have wanted you to see her hit rock bottom; she loved you enough not to want to put you through that."

Her eyes were shiny and he watched as she swallowed thickly. Rachel had said that everyone had loved Shelby when she was up; he suspected a handful of people had actually loved her when she was down. Puck guessed that the Rachel was one of those few and had bore the brunt of the emotional upheaval that came with having someone close to you suffer through a mental disorder.

He groaned inwardly. The last thing he wanted to do is see Rachel in a sympathetic light because it blurred his resolve, but he wasn't a complete asshole.

"I'm sorry she was sick Rachel, I really am."

"Thank you." She accepted his statement for what it was worth and they gazed at each other for one excruciatingly long minute.

"Anyway," she blinked rapidly and pasted on a wide smile that he knew was fake, even though he'd only just barely witnessed one of her genuine ones. "I've found out all I wanted to know. You'll be happy to know I have to be getting back to Long Island. I'll be gone first thing in the morning."

"I am happy to hear that," he said, but didn't sound it.

"Goodbye Noah," She said sticking her hand out towards him, "it's been…interesting?"

She phased it as more of a question and he made the mistake of taking the tiny hand that was thrust in his direction, folding his fingers over hers. It didn't escape his notice that they weren't exactly shaking hands -as was her intention- rather he was holding onto hers, marvelling at the warmth and softness of her skin.

He yanked his hand away and turned on his heel, striding purposely down the path and back to his truck, feeling the weight of her gaze as she stared at his retreating form.

Something was wrong here.

He'd gotten what he wanted, _technically_, an assurance that she was leaving. Trying to believe that was enough, he went home and went back to work, stewing; later he ate supper and showered, no singing. Watching TV later that night, he flipped idly through the channels, unable to concentrate on any one program.

Unease niggled at the back of his mind, as if he was missing a piece of a puzzle he wasn't even aware he was trying to put together. Puck felt as if he should know something he didn't. He felt as if she had given him the real reason to her visit, but he had lost it in translation and if he thought hard enough, he could figure it out.

When no answer presented itself, he ordered himself to forget about it and flicked over to a hockey game and resolutely watched the puck as it skated over the ice, back and forth.

In the middle of the night, Puck awoke suddenly, the moonlight streaming through a small gap in his curtains, painting a sliver of white on his bedroom floor. He lay still, listening to the sound of his own breathing, measured and content.

But then the questions began surfacing again and his relaxation faded. What was Rachel Berry really doing here? Besides driving him fucking crazy?

All that shit about her wanting to see who her mother loved, about being intrigued by his photograph, it just didn't add up.

Shelby might have been impulsive, reckless even but Rachel looked cautious, organized and responsible.

The person least likely to decide on a whim to drive 700 miles away from home just to meet a man who'd been involved with her mother, regardless of what she believed the true nature of their relationship had been.

For some reason, Rachel Berry was lying, or at the very least, not telling him the entire truth. He could see it in her eyes- and in the darkness of his bedroom, he allowed himself the luxury he had not allowed himself earlier that day. Puck contemplated those eyes and the one moment she had smiled-really smiled- and they had shone with amusement, chasing that fucking detached somberness from her gaze.

The tree outside his window rustled in the breeze, causing a shadow to dance across his wall. A shiver tickled down his spine and he had the strangest premonition that his whole world was shifting and he was powerless to prevent it as it tipped and tilted on its axis.

What was this she'd said about an inheritance? Was there the tiniest hint of truth in the statement that Shelby had left something for him? And why was she asking if he liked children?

Suddenly, with a clarity that comes in the night sometimes, in those moments between sleep and waking where your mind just seems able to effortlessly connect the dots in a way you can never consciously manage during the waking hours, he knew.

Puck sat up, the blankets pooling at his waist as his heart pounded painfully in his chest.

He tried to tell himself that there was no way, _it just wasn't possible_ but it was, wasn't it? Possible?

A sense of urgency overcame him and he pushed the covers roughly aside and grabbed his jeans from a heap on the floor, tugging the denim over his thighs as he cursed.

He pulled a plain black t-shirt over his head and shoved his bare feet into sneakers, not bothering to tie the laces.

What if she hadn't wanted to wait until morning? What if she'd already gone? He didn't know one thing about her except her name and the fact that she lived on Long Island. How many Rachel Berry's would there be?

It wouldn't matter. If he missed her, if she'd packed her little Nissan and stole away in the dead of the night-like her mother had before her- he'd track down every last Berry in New York State, _hell the whole country_, until he found her and confirmed the truth that had seized his head and his heart a few minutes before.

He started the truck and barrelled towards town. It was doubtful that there would be law enforcement out at this time-he glanced at his watch- not at 3 o'clock in the morning. Puck gunned the accelerator, ignoring the groan of protest his engine gave as he shifted gears roughly; he didn't care if the truck blew up, as long as it got him to his destination.

He was almost weak with relief when he came to the first motel on the Main Street and saw her little blue Nissan parked in front of a motel room on the corner of the building. There were only a handful of cars in the parking lot and he bet the darkened room on the end was hers- if it wasn't, he didn't care if he woke up everyone in the complex, banging on every door until it revealed the petite brunette he was seeking.

He jumped out of his truck and hammered on the door closest to her car, waited and hammered again.

After a long moment, he saw the curtain flicker, ever so slightly.

"Rachel Berry, I know you're in there." It took considerable effort to settle on the right volume, one that she would hear but that wouldn't wake the rest of the town. If all of Lima wasn't already speculating about him and Rachel, they soon would be.

"I know you're awake."

Silence.

"Open the door Rachel, _now_, or I'm breaking it down-your choice."

He could almost sense her, on the other side of the thick wood that separated them, her ear pressed close as she listened to him shift restlessly.

"I'm counting to three." He warned, his voice getting progressively louder.

"One."

He heard scuffling on the other side and the scrape of the security chain.

"Two," he waited.

"Thr-"

The handle twisted and she opened it a crack, peering out at him in annoyance.

"What are you doing, bellowing about in this manner? You're making enough racket to wake the dead!"

He regarded her high collared nightgown with sardonic amusement. Very Little House on the Prairie.

"Let me in." he demanded.

She look scandalized, "I most certainly will not. It's the middle of the night. Are you drunk?"

"I fucking wish." He muttered darkly, "you're a good enough fucking reason to get completely shit faced."

She narrowed her eyes.

"I refuse to stand here, listening to your vulgar profanities as you insult me. Goodnight." She tried to shut the door, but he wedged his foot in and braced his shoulder against the wood.

"We need to talk." He told her.

"It will have to wait until morning." She was bossy. He kind of already knew that about her, but now that he knew his life would be entangled with hers, one way or another, forever, this took on a new, significant meaning.

"And give you the opportunity to bail or come up with another bullshit lie to try and throw me off? Not gonna happen, Berry. I know exactly what's going on here."

She opened the door all the way and they stood across from each other, glowering.

Her hair was all sleep messed, looking exactly as he thought it would, released from its hold, tumbling over her shoulders, in thick, wild waves.

It made her face look softer. She looked sexy even.

_**Don't let her sway you Puckerman.**_

"So," she said tapping her foot impatiently, "talk."

"You didn't come here to check out your mother's long lost love, you came here for another reason." It was a statement, not a question- he was sure that he was right.

"Oh yes," she rose her eyebrow tartly, "And what pray tell is your theory?"

"Shelby had a baby." He watched her face carefully as whatever sleepiness that was lingering, faded. "My baby."

Her face drained of color so rapidly he took half a step towards her, convinced that she was going to pass right out, her eyes wide and frightened. She stood frozen so he used her immobilization to his advantage, taking her shoulders and guiding her backwards into the room. He closed the door behind them and leaned against it as she took two shaky steps towards her mussed up bed and sank wearily down on the rumpled covers.

"Boy or girl?" He demanded, his voice tight and ice-cold.

Rachel looked at him, the apology written all over her features. "Boy." She whispered, that one syllable wavering.

He swore, dropping his gaze to the worn carpet. When his head rose again he fixed her with a look so furious she wanted to shrink back from the heat behind it.

"I want to see my son." He said abruptly. "Get dressed because we're leaving right-fucking-now."


	3. Road Trip

_**"Boy or girl?" He demanded, his voice tight and ice-cold.**_

_**Rachel looked at him, the apology written all over her features. "Boy." She whispered, that one syllable wavering.**_

_**He swore, dropping his gaze to the worn carpet. When his head rose again he fixed her with a look so furious she wanted to shrink back from the heat behind it.**_

_**"I want to see my son." He said abruptly. "Get dressed because we're leaving right-fucking-now."**_

* * *

"We are not going anywhere," Rachel stated, standing and finding her voice, trying desperately to inject a note of steely determination.

Puck glared at her, his eyes dark and challenging in the dim light of the small hotel room. She could see the strength and resolve in those eyes and it occurred to her, that should she engage in a battle of wills with this particular man, she was almost certain there would be no clear winner. She was proven wrong a second later however, when she lost the staring contest and she dropped her eyes in defeat.

Unfortunately, her gaze came to rest on his broad, defined chest, the snug fit of his plain black t-shirt emphasizing the muscles she knew lie beneath. She had spent a great deal of time obsessing over Noah Puckerman's body, she realized, far more time in fact than she had ever spent daydreaming about her fiancés. Rachel considered this unseemly, really, given that she was planning an intimate life long relationship with Finn and Noah was a merely a man she had forged an acquaintance with barely a day before.

She'd already acknowledged that Noah was a fine specimen of a man, and the anger sizzling in the air around him now did nothing to diminish his appeal. If anything, the deep frown marring his handsome face and the impatient air he was projecting heightened his attractiveness.

"I said, get dressed," Puck repeated, "And pack up your stuff."

Rachel folded her arms over her chest in mutinous rebellion. Her heart was beating rapidly, as though her very survival was threatened by him taking control of her. She didn't intend on letting him know that she was both thrilled and frightened by this unexpected twist in her seemingly well thought out plan.

"No," she said firmly, giving herself a mental pat on the back for her calm tone. "As I previously stated, I'm not going anywhere. Not with you. You'll have to haul me out of here kicking and screaming," She paused, arching her eyebrow at him, "and won't that make a fine first page spread in the Lima Daily Chronicle."

He leaned in very close to her, so that their noses were almost touching. Rachel swallowed nervously. She could feel his breath on her cheek and it was warm, sensuous and yes, frankly a bit arousing. But the hard edge in his eyes did not bode well for her.

"I'll take that as a challenge if you like," he said, his voice deceptively calm. "I don't mind tossing you over my shoulder and carrying you right out of here. You don't look like you'd weigh more than a sack of potatoes anyway. And I'm not worried about the Lima Daily Chronicle."

"That's not what you said earlier," she reminded him sassily.

He fixed her with a hard stare. "I was a different man then. My whole world has just been turned upside-fucking-down!"

Rachel could relate. It felt like her whole world was shifting dangerously as well. She had to hold onto reason! She was always the one who made the plans, who knew what to do, who took charge. Surrendering was not an option.

She tried a less aggressive stance, softening her tone and touching his arm. "Could we try and act as reasonable adults here? It's the middle of the night Noah, there's no reason this can't wait until morning."

Puck was not fooled in the least by her tone and although his skin tingled from her touch, he glared at her fingers until she snatched her hand away.

"Maybe you don't know this, but your mother left me in the dead of the night, without leaving a trace. Having been on the end of one disappearing act, I'm not about to let it happen again."

"You may have had grounds to mistrust Shelby," Rachel acknowledged, "But I am not guilty by association. I've not given you one reason not to trust me!"

Puck scoffed, "I have a kid you didn't tell me about. That's a fucking good enough reason in my book. When were you going to tell me I had a son?"

When she was silent, he hazarded a guess. "You'd decided not to, huh? Didn't I pass the little daddy interviews you were conducting around town? Maybe you decided, Little Miss Control Freak, that you weren't going to tell me about him at all."

"I was going to tell you." She insisted, but honestly, when she'd gone to bed this evening she hadn't been entirely certain about what to do with Noah Puckerman. It seemed her primary concern of when and how to tell him about Eli had gotten all mixed up in the color of his eyes and the taste of his lips. More than anything she had to take a breath and do what was right, what was rational.

"You know you're a fucking terrible liar right?" he asked her.

"I was waiting for the right time," she claimed.

"The right time would have been on my front step, the second you met me. You had no right to keep this from me."

"I wasn't keeping it from you." She protested, heatedly. "And I should have told you on your front porch? Really? When you practically mauled me?"

He ignored that, "You weren't going to tell me, were you? Not until you'd fully analyzed your pro/con list and could decide for yourself whether I was father material or not. Am I right?"

Rachel shifted uncomfortably. In all fairness she hadn't started on the pro/con list. _Yet_. "I was just trying to do what is right by my brother, Noah."

He snorted, "Well guess what? You've been retired as God. I'm taking over here, I'm in control now."

He was right about her need to be the one in the driver's seat. Rachel liked, _no needed_, to be the one calling the shots; she didn't know how to function without a list that confirmed for her that everything was in order.

But a funny thing happened when Puck stated in no uncertain terms that he was taking over the reigns; instead of feeling as though her world was unravelling, she actually felt faintly relieved.

It was the scariest realization she'd ever experienced. She could never let him see this unexpected vulnerability she had unearthed in herself, in case he saw fit to exploit it. She could hardly even believe she was admitting it to herself. How could she so willingly let him take over the decision making in her life? She needed to fight!

"You can't make me go anywhere with you. That's a felony. It's called kidnapping."

He smirked, the quirk of his lips making him equally formidable and disarmingly attractive. The man was so god-awful handsome it should be illegal.

Again she was distracted by his looks. Rachel forced herself to stay on point.

"I can't drive in the middle of the night anyway." She said sharply. "I have night blindness."

He chuckled, "You think I was going to let you drive? I'm driving."

"It's a 10 hour drive," she reminded him needlessly, "You won't like driving that far with an unhappy woman." She said. A look of triumph stole over his face and she realized a second too late that she had just given in and relinquished her position of not going at all.

_**Crap.**_

"I don't give a flying fuck about you and your unhappiness Berry. I'd walk over fire to see my son, so 10 hours in a car with you doesn't seem like much of a challenge."

She should have felt insulted by his apparent lack of concern for her but instead, she was gripped by the strange sensation in her chest in response to the fierce loyalty Noah had just demonstrated to a son he hadn't even met.

It was that loyalty that told her she'd made the right decision, coming all the way to Lima to find him. Still, she couldn't let herself be swayed by a few words. She knew next to nothing about this man and Eli was too precious to her to risk turning his life upside down until she was absolutely certain introducing Noah as his father would not be detrimental to his emotional development.

"What my brother needs most in his life Noah, is stability." She announced seriously. When Puck failed to look suitably impressed by her proclamation, she added. "I read it in a book.'

He rolled his eyes at that. "Look Rachel, I can see you're the type of chick who goes through life with a set of maps, an instruction manual, a first aid kit and a parachute, but sometimes it's ok to just make it up as you go along. Be spontaneous."

He grinned at her then. An actual smile, not the smirk she had grown accustomed to.

"You never know, you might just enjoy it."

She shook her head incredulously. Spontaneity didn't sound safe at all. If Puck had to deal with the aftermath of all Shelby's 'spontaneous' endeavours, he wouldn't be so dismissive of her concerns

"You need to know that I am actively seeking a full time father for Eli." Rachel found herself divulging. She closed her eyes and forged ahead. "I am fully committed to creating a normal, healthy, happy home for him." In case she hadn't been clear enough, she elaborated. "That means a mother AND a father, together."

As she made her statement, she got an image of this particular mother and this particular father in _that_ particular way; her heart seemed to stop for a moment before resuming it's beating at a rapid pace, and her body felt like it had gone up in flames. Not that Puck appeared to notice.

"Eli," he repeated. It occurred to Rachel then that she had never told Puck what his son had been named. And then the rest of her little speech caught up with him and his mouth snapped shut. His eyes lingered on the high neck of her nightgown and he snorted derisively.

He met her gaze steadily.

"And you need to know that now I know about him, Eli _has_ a father. I'll do right by my kid but I'm not going to change my position about getting married."

"Being a father is more than merely a function of biology," she informed him coolly. "And I wasn't proposing to you!" she scrunched her face up at the suggestion. "Ugh! As it happens, I already have a man picked out."

Well she _did_ have a man picked out. But she had come to Lima to see if Noah would be a suitable father for Eli, better than Finn. It had been a stupid plan. Impulsive and plainly not thought out at all. She had never considered that Noah would gain the upper hand and wrestle the control from her. She had underestimated him.

On the other hand, wasn't that what she wanted? Hadn't she suspected that just from looking at his picture she knew Noah Puckerman might be the man to rescue her from the extraordinarily uneventful and potentially boring life she had planned out for herself?

No. She told herself firmly. There was nothing wrong with her plan. She believed in what she was preaching. Eli deserved two stable, committed parents. She and Finn could provide that for him.

As she mentally berated herself for her momentary slip in objective, Puck had narrowed his eyes at the "ugh" she had spat. Stealthily, he invaded her personal space so that their chests were nearly touching. When she found herself looking at a solid wall of black material and felt the heat rising from his body, she looked up.

"Is that who gave you the ring?"

So he'd noticed the ring. She absently ran her thumb over the underside of the band.

"Yes," she answered. "Finn proposed a few months ago." It was around the time she had found Noah's photograph actually. She didn't like to think about the timing of that discovery and how she proceeded to actively focus on searching him out, when what she really should have been concentrating on, was wedding plans.

"Finn." he repeated slowly, as if the man's name alone could tell him something. "So my role has already been cast, has it? Well ok then, you tell me what _your_ criteria is for a father for_ my_ son."

Rachel wasted no time in launching into the list she had painstakingly spent hours devising before Finn had unexpectedly stumbled into her life. He had so many of the qualities she was looking for, it was almost as if she had conjured him from her own imagination.

"A man that is infinitely stable, obviously. Who is kind and considerate- neat and tidy would help."

Puck arched his eyebrow in amusement, a move that seemed to fluster her.

"Well he won't prance around in a towel for one thing." She continued hotly, "Or kiss complete strangers. And he certainly would never dismantle an engine in my kitchen."

She knew what he was going to do before he even lowered his head. His eyes were bright with his anger but when he kissed her, she felt anything but fury. Puck's lips were warm and sensual, tasting faintly of mint toothpaste. He nuzzled her mouth until her lips parted ever so slightly and with a soft sigh, she granted entrance to his probing tongue.

Noah Puckerman was much too sure of his own charms, and not without good reason. His mouth moving over hers was enough to drive every thought from her mind and it took considerable effort for her to ensure she remained upright when his mouth finally left hers, when her knees threatened to buckle.

'There," he said steadily, apparently not at all affected by the kiss as she was. "I've disqualified myself from your little family plan, which by the way is fucking ridiculous."

"That poor kid, he'd be better off at a military school based on your idea for an ideal 'neat and tidy' home." He shook his head sadly.

"I am giving Eli a wonderful life!" She exclaimed, offended that he was suggesting anything else.

"You and Finn." he reminded her of her fiancés role in this picture perfect, fairytale dream home she was fantasizing about. "Do you polish his tennis shoes too?"

"Finn's or Eli's?" She questioned, confused.

"Boy are you missing the point." He rolled his eyes.

"I don't think the fact that I have clean tennis shoes should be seen as a mark against my character!"

'But the fact that I have an engine on my kitchen counter should be a mark against mine?" He countered.

She pouted and his eyes were drawn to her lips. "The right man could make you forget all about the state of your kitchen counters."

"That would never be you!" she exclaimed in annoyance. "You are the most aggravating man I have ever met."

He shrugged indifferently. "Better get used to me sweetheart, because it seems like out lives are going to be tangled for a long time to come."

Unfortunately, his assessment was spot on. From the determined set of his jaw, she could tell he intended to play an active role in Eli's life from this point on, and by default, an integral part of hers.

"Let's go." He prompted, glancing at his watch, dismissing their conversation - and that kiss - easily. It made her want to throw herself at him, recapture his mouth and chase away any preconceived notion he had of her polishing her tennis shoes. As if, she threw them in the laundry with her whites.

But giving into that impulse would just complicate a relationship they had just determined was to last a long, long time. The interminable length of their acquaintance suddenly stretched out before her and she had to wonder, bewilderedly, when her subconscious agreed to let this horrible man into her life.

Numbly, she selected a change of clothes and went into the bathroom to dress; she'd chosen a pair of dark wash jeans and a light beige sweater.

Rachel brushed her hair into another high ponytail and stopped fiddling with her bangs when she decided it was a little pathetic how hard she was trying to look nice.

Puck waited while she circled the room, packing her belongings neatly into the large suitcase before taking it from her like it weighed nothing and tossing it carelessly into the back of his truck.

"You all paid up here?" he asked.

She nodded, fiddling with her car keys.

"You might as well leave your car at my place, so the people that own this dump don't wonder about you like they will if you're gone and it's still here."

"But I can't just leave my car in Lima. I'll need it when I get home." She protested.

"I thought maybe we'd hang out at your house for a few days and then bring Eli back here for a couple of weeks. That way I can get to know my son on my own turf."

Rachel's irritation returned. "What makes you think that I can put my life on hold like that? I can't just drop everything to come back here with you!"

Puck opened the door of his truck and turned the ignition, warming up the engine. "Kind of had you pegged you for a schoolmarm. I bet you have the entire summer off."

She screwed up her nose, "I am not a _schoolmarm_. What a ridiculous term." Rachel couldn't believe he had her pegged so easily. Was she that transparent?

"But you're a teacher, yeah?"

How she would love to wipe that smug look of his face and tell him she was actually a stripper or a high class escort, just for the sheer shock value of it. But of course, lies did not come that easy to her.

"I am a teacher." She admitted, "Music and drama."

He nodded, in an I-told-you-so kind of movement.

He walked around his truck to where she was standing and opened the driver's side car door for her. Rachel slid behind the wheel and looked up at him when he failed to shut the door after her.

"Don't try anything," he warned, "just drive straight to my place."

She glared at him. What did he think she was going to do? Initiate a high speed chase throughout the deserted streets of Lima? Actually, she thought that might not be such a bad idea. For a minute she entertained the notion. That would certainly erase that arrogant certainty he had that she was boring and predictable.

She pushed at his knees until he stepped away and closed her door firmly. Starting her car, she looked out the window and saw him watching her carefully. She made an 'after you' gesture with her hand, indicating he should pull out ahead of her so she could follow him.

_**Had she actually agreed to bring Eli back out here?**_

Ten minutes later, when they had made it to his house and she parked in the drive beside the garage, she got out and immediately began to ask all of the questions she had been thinking of on the way over.

"How long are you thinking Eli and I will be staying? Are you planning on having us stay with you? And what are we going to tell him?"

Puck held up his hand as he led the way up the walk to his front door. "Hold up lady, one thing at a time. First I need a pair of socks, then I can start mapping out a plan for the rest of my life."

It was a thinly veiled jab at her tendency to over think things, one that she did not appreciate.

A half an hour later she was sitting in the cab of his truck, his dirty, smelly dog sitting right on top of her feet. Rachel had protested the dog but Puck had reminded her, in that infuriating calm tone, that he was the one in control now and Hank was a non-negotiable passenger on their road trip.

Puck was driving silently, his face impassive, revealing nothing of what he was thinking. The dog tried to get up on the seat beside her, but she pushed him back down with a stern look. Hank regarded her sadly and returned to his position, resting his head on her gleaming white tennis shoes.

Rachel attempted to stay awake but the highway unfolding endlessly into the darkness. She felt her eyelids grow heavy and minutes later, she drifted off into a troubled sleep. She awoke once when she felt a heaviness settle in her lap and found that Hank had made it up onto the seat with them after all and decided the most comfortable position was lying across her thighs. When he noticed she was awake, he licked her hand hoping to be petted.

She gave a long suffering sigh and patted his head before succumbing to slumber again.

Puck glanced at the woman asleep beside him. She'd wound her ponytail into a knot at the back of her head and her sneakers practically glowed in the dark. Hank looked comfortable, having managed to nudge his head under her hand. It was said that dogs could see right through a façade, straight to the heart, and it seemed Hank had decided Miss High and Mighty had a good heart.

Her head lulled to the side and she let out a soft little snore, a sound he was sure would have embarrassed the hell out of her. Even in her sleep her forehead was creased and she looked as though she had the weight of the world on her shoulders.

Well he was a little worried himself, not that he intended to let her see that. His entire life had been upended, totally.

Up until the very moment Rachel had confirmed Eli's existence, there was the slimmest chance that he had been wrong about the kid. Up until that moment, it was possible he had simply been caught in some middle-of-the night delusion, taking wild stabs in the dark.

But it hadn't been a delusion. He had a child; he had a_ son_.

He had a son that had been born and named for him, and then had lived without the care and protection of his father for all this time. Puck believed Rachel when she said that Shelby had been sick, but he couldn't help the intense hatred he harboured for his former lover, couldn't quite quell the sense of betrayal.

Every missed birthday was a betrayal. Every missed milestone - first tooth, first step, first word - a betrayal.

For a man who made a vow of being a bachelor for the rest of his life, it occurred to Puck that he wasn't unhappy about the boy. Like at all. Maybe because he could have the best of both worlds- a son without the complication of the kind of family Rachel was so hell-bent on creating. It was evident that Rachel had the mothering thing down pat. And though he had his doubts about her relationship with this Finn dude, he had no doubt that Eli was being raised in a safe and loving environment.

He made a mental note to consult a lawyer about his rights and responsibilities, though he knew if he listened to his heart he'd get a less complicated version.

He had no interest in taking Eli away from her; he had no illusions that he could do a better job in bringing the kid up - he just wanted to be involved. He could be an effective long distance parent. He could call and visit. He'd send birthday cards and get Chang to teach him that Skype thing on his computer, make sure he kept in touch regularly.

Mostly, he just wanted to give Eli the opportunity to know him. He didn't want his kid to think that he was a deadbeat, that his father didn't love him. Puck's own father had split when he was a kid and he knew from firsthand experience, no matter how awesome a kid's mother was, if there was one thing a boy needed, it was a dad.

When the silence in the truck got to be too much, Puck slipped in a CD compilation of soft rock and turned the volume on low so as not to disturb the woman beside him. A couple of hours later, when the sun had just risen and the traffic was building up on the roads, Rachel stirred.

She yawned and stretched, the edge of her sweater riding up and revealing a slither of her toned stomach. Puck tried not to stare. It was simple things like that, watching a woman wake up - all flushed cheeks and soft eyes - that made him regret the road not taken. It was times like these he thought he was holding onto his N.G.M.N.F.W.N.F.E membership card a little tighter that he should.

"Where are we?" She asked quietly, as not to disturb the tranquillity in the small space. She half heartedly tried to dislodge Hank from her lap, but the dog snuggled into her body and turned pleading eyes up at her. She sighed and ran her fingers through his fur, a small smile tugging on her lips.

Puck wondered if this was her modus operandi - appear uptight and aloof to hide the scorching heat he had tasted in her kisses and the softness she had displayed in her waking moments.

"We're close to Akron. I'll stop there so we can grab breakfast." He answered gruffly.

Rachel nodded and looked out the window at the rolling countryside.

"I'm sorry you didn't know about him sooner." She offered unexpectedly.

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and saw that she was now frowning down at her hands. Had his thoughts, his sense of betrayal, somehow etched themselves onto his face for her to see?

"Shelby always maintained she didn't know who the father was," Rachel continued unhappily, "I had no reason not to believe her. She tended to do some wild things when she was up, she really couldn't help herself."

Puck flinched. He was one of those 'wild things' was he? He'd been apparently sucked into the whirlwind of Shelby's baffling illness and he'd never suspected.

"I started to go through her things a few months ago, that's when I found your picture. When I read the back of the photograph I knew you were Eli's father. I've been debating what to do ever since."

She took a deep breath and tilted her head to contemplate him. Puck darted his gaze between her and the road, waiting.

"I honestly never planned on not telling you Noah. I thought you had a right to know, to decide how involved you wanted to be in his life. It seemed so unfair to me that Shelby kept him from you, regardless of how sick she was. But you have to understand, he's so young and has already had to deal with so much, having Shelby coming and going like she did - it's been upsetting for him."

She bit her lip, her eyes drifting back to her hands. "I needed to find out what kind of man you were before I even considered introducing you into Eli's life."

Puck rolled his shoulders restlessly, she made a good point.

"A lot of women would have put that picture right back in the box," he acknowledged slowly.

"Does that mean you forgive me for failing to tell you about him right away?" She asked sombrely.

He exhaled loudly, "I don't like it," he told her plainly, "But I guess I get why you didn't." he conceded grudgingly.

They drove for a few miles in silence before his curiosity got the best of him. "Tell me about him. About Eli." He requested, amazed to discover the excitement in his tone.

_**Huh, go figure. **_

"I want to know everything."

"I have a picture."

Puck pulled over to the shoulder so fast, poor Hank was nearly thrown to the floor. Amazingly it was Rachel's quick reflexes as she put a restraining arm out, that prevented the dog from sliding off the bench seat.

"Let's see."

She rummaged around in her giant purse and finally came out with a slimline wallet, opening the flap to reveal the photograph in question. It was a professional shot. A little boy sat on a stool, his hands folded neatly in his lap and his short little legs crossed at the ankles. He was wearing a white shirt, black suspenders and a goofy looking bowtie. His dark hair had been slicked back and he wore a very solemn expression as he gazed at the camera.

Puck traced the lines of his sons face and they both pretended to not notice the way his hand shook. "I looked exactly like this at that age," he murmured. "I have a picture almost identical to this somewhere. No fucking bowtie though, thank god."

"There's nothing wrong with bowties," she retorted defensively, but as he looked up he saw she wore a gentle smile. "When I saw your picture in Shelby's things I really didn't have any doubt as to Eli's paternity. It's those same hazel eyes." She said the last sentence almost adoringly and at the last second, she caught herself and blushed.

So Rachel Berry liked his eyes, he mused. He thought he might like that as much as he liked looking at the picture of the boy. How complicated his life had become in less than 48 hours. He reluctantly handed her back the picture and pulled back onto the highway. "How old is he in the picture?"

"It was taken a few months ago, at a Sears portrait day. You know, six ninety nine for all the pictures you want." He didn't know actually. Thanks to Shelby, he had missed out on all those things that parents just _knew_.

"Now, tell me about him," Puck requested gruffly, "From the very second he was born."

Rachel gathered her thoughts and then began. "Eli was born at 5:58 in the morning on February 10th. He weighed 8 pounds 11 ounces." She recited from memory. "You know how you picture babies coming out all red and angry, screaming at the top of their lungs?" She asked, her smile widening. "Not him. Eli was a little Buddha right from the start."

Puck tried to concentrate on the road but he was distracted by the conversation, not wanting to miss a thing. He could see her let go of some the finely held tension she carried as she talked about her brother. Despite the polished running shoes and her dreams of a neat and tidy house, Puck heard in her voice the absolute love for the child and knew, for all the stupid mistakes she was making, Rachel was good for his son.

"As I said, Shelby wasn't around a lot and when she was, she didn't spend a lot of time with him," she said, "but I was always there."

Unsaid, he heard, _picking up the pieces_.

Rachel talked about the kind of baby Eli had been, about buying him a tiny little bunny outfit for his first Easter and giving him mashed up banana for his first solid food. She told him about the long nights she spent awake, rocking him gently when he had a bout of colic and about his love-hate relationship he had with a cat named Abby-the-Tabby.

"He loves her, the cat hates him."

In a way, Puck guessed he had been Rachel's baby right from the start. With Shelby taking off at random intervals and in and out of hospital, Rachel had always been Eli's touchstone, his safe place.

Rachel talked and talked as the truck ate up the miles of highway and yet Puck couldn't hear enough. He wanted to hear it all. He laughed as she recounted Eli's first encounter with dog poop and filed away the names of the toys he liked to play with during bath time. When she told him she had brought a little fishing rod and a baseball bat for him, in an effort to keep his interests well-rounded, Puck realized Rachel was going to be a damn good mother for his son once he got her straightened out about a few things.

Rachel's world was just a little too ordered and if she was going to be the primary care giver for a small boy, she needed to loosen the fuck up a bit. He hoped her fiancé was willing to help out in that department.

"So tell me about this guy you're going to marry." Puck requested as they merged onto the I-76 E.

"Finn?" It didn't escape his notice that Rachel sat up a little straighter and her expression lost some of that open contentment as the topic switched to her fiancé.

"Finn's lovely." She said.

Lovely was such a generic term and not one Puck could feel enthused about in terms of the man who would be helping raise his son.

"So what does 'lovely' mean exactly?" Puck asked.

"Oh you know," she waved her hand vaguely.

"I don't."

Rachel shifted uncomfortably and Puck had to wonder why it seemed so difficult for her to talk about the man she was supposedly in love with.

"Well, as I might have mentioned, Finn owns a hardware and electrical store, so he's very prosperous and stable."

_**Interesting. **_

The first thing Rachel could tell him about the guy was that he was financially stable. Is that what Puck wanted his son learning? That credit scores and bank balances were more important in a relationship than passion and love?

"Finn has a 3 bedroom, split level home near the water, and stainless steel appliances in his kitchen. Abby-the-Tabby is his cat."

Puck didn't like that she switched to cataloguing Finn's belongings instead of his character. She didn't seem superficial, so he had to assume that after witnessing Shelby's exploits - the 'wild ones' she had alluded too - Rachel was afraid to trust her own heart. She seemed content to settle for a dull and unexciting life and he wagered that was because she hated feeling out of control. Apparently this 'Finn' dude was about as exciting as a pile of bricks.

"How does he feel about Eli?"

"Finn adores Eli," Rachel said, far too quickly, a response that had Puck arching his eyebrow sceptically.

"How does he show he adores him," he mocked.

She seemed oblivious to his sarcasm. "You should see the collection of Tonka trucks he's brought him from the hardware store."

_**Great, more stuff.**_

Puck felt his mission was becoming clearer by the second. It was his sacred duty, his obligation to his son, to tilt Rachel Berry's world right on its axis. Eli had to learn what it was to love and be loved, and he didn't think that was a lesson Rachel and Finn were too adept at teaching him.

Puck decided he needed to show Rachel that it was ok to deviate from the 10 year plan he was sure she had written for herself. He wanted her to let her hair down, literally and figuratively, and maybe discover that she deserved something more than marriage to a guy she couldn't even muster the enthusiasm to talk about.

He thought that underneath the starched blouses and medieval nightwear was a woman who yearned to cut loose, get dirty and *gasp* stay up past midnight. It was his job to encourage her to break out of her self-constructed shell of boring and let the 'real' Rachel Berry out to play.

He was pretty sure it was going to be the most fun he'd have in fucking _years_.

**_A/N: Review?_**


	4. Eli

_**A/N: OMGGGGGG, I didn't respond to reviews for the last chapter! So sorry to all those who took the time, I'll do better - I PROMISE! *hugs*.**_

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They'd spent a total of 11 hours on the road so far, having hit heavy traffic on the I-95 and Puck was pleased to see he was already having a positive effect on her. Rachel was looking rumpled and honestly, fucking sexy as hell. Her hair was falling messily from her bun, dog hair clung to the wet spots on her jeans from Hank's drool and her lipstick had long since worn off. Already she was different from the pressed, perfect person she'd been yesterday and he'd had her under his influence for less than a full day! He couldn't help but feel a sense of smug accomplishment. At this rate, in no time at all he'd have shown her what a woman should know in order to raise his son.

A few hours previously, when they had exhausted all of the small talk, she had found a paperback novel in that gigantic bag of hers, and though Rachel had folded the cover over, hiding it from his prying gaze, she hadn't been fast enough. His suspicions about her reading material had been confirmed; a scantily clad heroine was running from a dark, sinister looking castle and from the flushed look on her cheeks, Rachel was enjoying the story a little too much.

He was a little bit pissed actually, that his offhand comments had been ignored for the past couple of hundred miles. She had a living, breathing man sitting right next to her and she was enthralled in a fucking book?

His eyes slid back to her, lingering on the slight swell of her breasts under her ugly sweater. "You look good." He told her gruffly.

Step one of his plan was to encourage this let-your-hair-down look and attitude.

Rachel glanced up at him with a furrowed brow, irritated that her concentration had been broken. She flipped down the visor and inspected her self in the small, square mirror, pulling a face at her reflection. The novel was wedged between her thighs as she tugged at the elastic imprisoning her locks, letting her hair fall around her shoulders in waves.

"I supposed you think you're being funny," she griped as she finger-combed the tangles. Puck's eyes were darting quickly between her and the busy highway and he shook his head.

"Hey I was giving you a compliment," he complained, "You look all sexed up, it's pretty fucking hot actually."

Rachel blushed, but set her mouth into a thin line as she smoothed her hair into a neater ponytail, before reaching into her bag for her lipstick.

"I would appreciate it if you attempted to reign in your rather colourful vocabulary Noah." She requested primly, "Eli is at a very impressionable age and the last thing I want is for him to request one more 'fucking story' before bed." Puck watched, fascinated, as she painted her lips a dark red. An image sprung to mind of those lips stretched around his cock and he had to shake the image away as fast as it had come.

"I'll watch the swearing in front of the kid," he promised, "you gotta learn to relax babe."

"I am not your 'babe'," Rachel sneered the word as she picked her book up again, prepared to resume ignoring him again.

_**Oh hell no.**_

Puck was restless, tired and bored out of his mind, having been stuck behind the wheel for the entire duration of their trip. With less than an hour to go, the least she could do was provide a little conversation so he didn't fall asleep and crash them into a pillar of an overpass or something.

So, he picked his opening carefully, guaranteed it was going to get a reaction from her.

"You know, I feel sorry for those kids you teach. You're like a hen in a coyote den. One frog in the desk and you'd have them in detention for life."

"My students wouldn't dare put a frog in my desk," Rachel sniffed, not looking up from her book. And then, if her dismissal wasn't enough, she had to throw his previous compliment back in his face, "At least I'm a good looking hen in the coyote den, according to you."

He growled, "I _wish_ I was in grade school again. I'd do more than chuck a frog in your fucking desk."

"You mean you aren't still in grade school?" she asked with artificial sweetness.

He shut up for a moment. Whatever. Her insult was lame. He took in her erect posture and shook his head.

"You're so fucking uptight," he muttered, sparing a glance at Hank who was still sprawled comfortably on the seat between them. He'd been ushered off of Rachel's lap hours ago and his head was now resting on the leather, pressed against her thigh.

Judging from the attention Hank seemed to want to lavish on her, Rachel seemed to have won a fan in his dog who was oblivious to her distaste for him.

_**Traitor.**_

Rachel took a measured breath and turned her dark brown eyes to him. "I have been forced out of my bed in the dead of the night." She stated calmly, "Stuck in a filthy truck with you for more than 10 hours, with your flea bag dog drooling in my lap the entire time. Not to mention, I've been risking my life at the hands of your reckless driving. If I am uptight, it is with good reason. I should be nominated for sainthood."

Didn't she know that a woman NEVER criticized a man's skill, either in bed or behind the wheel? "Hey," Puck protested, smacking the palm of the steering wheel for good measure. "I am not a reckless driver. I may drive fast, but that's only because I know the capabilities of my vehicle and myself. Besides, with a bonified Saint on board, what have I got to be worried about?" He reasoned, his frown turning into a smirk.

Rachel pursed her lips and one eyebrow rose in suspicion. "You were incorrigible as a boy, weren't you?" She guessed.

"Yep," he confirmed proudly, "Completely incorrigible. Incorrigible and the Saint. That would make a good book title don't you think?"

Rachel rolled her eyes, "And that tells me everything I need to know about your reading material."

He snorted, "You're commenting on my reading habits? What are you reading there babe? The Duke and the Duchess do it in Dorchester?"

Rachel glanced down at her book, "I'll have you know this is a fascinating read about life in the Victorian Era. The research is impeccable." She said stiffly, angling her body towards the door in a silent gesture that indicated she was done talking to him. _**Well, too fucking bad**_. They were in the midst of peek hour traffic now and his eyelids were drooping. He needed to stay awake and baiting her was the best - and most entertaining - option available to him.

"Back then, did women really dress like that chick on the cover there? If so, I envy the Duke. There must have been surprises falling out all over the place." Puck said, adjusting the vent so the cool air hit him square on.

"You're disgusting," she informed him, without tearing her eyes from the page she was reading. He would never admit it to her, but her indifference was kind of a major turn on. The urge to pull over and kiss her senseless had struck him more than once throughout the course of the trip, especially because he knew exactly what she tasted like - orange tic tacs.

He'd never really been a fan of orange tic tacs, but he suspected that might no longer be the case.

Earlier in the day Puck had decided he should probably resist the temptation her lips posed, but when he thought more about it, kissing her was actually going to be a pretty integral part of his plan. Having decided that Rachel needed lightening up, Puck had determined the fastest, most effective way of making that happen was through a good, thorough fuck.

Luckily for her, he was somewhat of an expert in the good fuck department, and lucky for him, he suspected she'd prove to be pretty phenomenal herself.

Once she extracted that giant stick from her ass.

Puck wondered again about her fiancé, this Finn douche. What was his deal? Why wasn't he regularly slipping his girl some salami in an effort to get her to chill-the-fuck out?

'_**Finn is so stable, Finn is so prosperous.' **_Puck mocked silently.

He could only imagine their future together, the two of them - Rachel and Finn.

Finn, he pictured, was a middle-aged portly man, with a badly receding hairline and a tiny prick. They'd do the dishes together after dinner, he predicted, taking care to polish out the smudges on their stainless steel appliances before enjoy a vigorous game of scrabble and then sliding into separate twin beds before 9pm each evening. She'd wear one of those god awful Little House on the Prairie nightgowns and Finn would be strictly a plaid flannel pajama kind of guy, Puck decided.

He screwed his nose up in disgust. _**What a waste.**_ He'd seen Rachel's legs and her rack wasn't half bad either. A woman like that should be naked under the sheets, like, at _all _times.

_**Lesson one**_, he thought to himself. _**A woman should never pick stainless steel appliances over nights of endless lovin'.**_

Puck nodded satisfied. Settling was for suckers.

Even as he thought that, Puck began to feel the prickles of self-awareness.

Uncomfortably, he had to wonder: hadn't he chosen a life that was fairly stable and predictable, leaving the more spontaneous and daring Puck of his late teenage years behind?

Where was the passion in his life these days? Matt Rutherford's '69 Camaro didn't count.

There were women in his life of course, _several women_. Puck had always been quite popular with the ladies and on any given Saturday night, he had a black book full of names willing to come over and keep him company. But the truth of the matter was, Puck had been a loner for a while, even before Shelby had come along.

Maybe he was settling himself.

"So we're both going to learn a little something." He mumbled to himself.

"Pardon?" Rachel asked, finally looking up from her book.

"Can't you just say 'what' like a normal person?" He grouched, checking his mirrors and indicating as he overtook some jackass doing 35 mph in an 80 zone.

"Are you a normal person?"

"Yes," he answered, "Obviously."

"Then no, I can't."

Her attitude was starting to grate on his nerves. "God, can you just shut the fuck up for 5 seconds?" he snapped, his need to suppress his imposing thoughts greater than his sudden desire for quiet. As the odometer on the dashboard steadily climbed, Rachel gazed at him warily, noting the way his eye was beginning to twitch.

"Are you alright Noah?" She asked, her voice softening even as his shoulders tensed.

"No I'm not alright. I'm fucking tired." And that explained everything really. The disrupted sleep and the seemingly endless drive had warped his thinking.

His life was _not_ predictable and boring. He had fun. He took apart cars and could put his feet up on the coffee table if he wanted. He sang in the shower and ate days-old pizza for breakfast. Puck was a free man damn it, a charter member of the N.G.M.N.F.W.N.F.E club- what more could he ask for? His life was fan-fucking-tastic!

She leaned across Hank to place her hand on his arm and her scent-sweet and lemony- seemed to fill up the entire truck, wrapping itself around his tired senses.

"We're almost home." She promised, glancing at the exit sign they were passing. We're on the Long Island Expressway now, our exit is less than 10 minutes away."

She gave his arm a comforting squeeze and when he felt his head turning towards her, he pulled himself up short. He _did not_ want to nuzzle into the side of her neck, press his lips against the crook of her shoulder (where he was sure he'd be able to smell that lemony scent the strongest) and maybe nip at her collarbone. _He didn't_.

So what if her scent was warm and inviting? It's not like he wanted to wrap her up in his arms and just breathe her in until he fell asleep….

He purposely kept his eyes fixed on the road.

He was a soldier with a mission. Save his son from a world of bowties and so-clean-they-could-glow-in-the-dark sneakers. Period. A fuck was fine - he'd welcome the opportunity to release some of his own built up tension - but emotional entanglements weren't necessary. In fact, they were downright dangerous, especially with this woman who looked (and sometimes sounded) just like Shelby.

Puck shouldn't be daydreaming about cuddling up with this particular brunette. One…he didn't have a vagina and therefore, didn't _cuddle._ And two…well, his brain was fried, he'd get back to you on that.

Rachel whipped out her phone and started texting a message with lightening fast fingers. "I'll just send Quinn a quick text to let her know we're close and have her start dinner. I imagine after a decent meal and a long, hot shower you'll be back in better spirits."

Puck squeezed his eyes shut tightly before opening them wide and giving himself another shake. Now that he's acknowledged his fatigue, it was taking everything in him to stay awake.

"I should have offered to drive in shifts with you." Rachel was saying quietly, more so to herself than to him as she hit send on her message. "No wonder you're tired, you couldn't have had more than a few hours sleep last night and have been stuck behind the wheel for hours."

"S'ok," he said grumpily, "I wouldn't have let you drive my truck anyway."

The loud beeping of a reply startled them both and Rachel read the reply aloud, "Pot Roast is in the oven. Eli has his nose pressed up against the window, watching out for you." Her tone was openly affectionate and she chuckled as she typed a quick response and put the phone back in her bag.

"Who's Quinn?" Puck asked curiously. He had assumed Finn had been watching Eli in Rachel's absence.

"Quinn is my best friend. I've known her since college, she's wonderful with children," Rachel assured him, mistaking his curiosity for apprehension about her friend's competency as a babysitter. "Eli adores her."

"You've known her since college?" Puck clarified, his sly grin returning. "So I should grease her up so she spills all your secrets? Quinn will probably have all your topless sorority hazing/beer pong tournament stories, right?"

Rachel actually laughed, shaking her head. "You're out of luck Noah, even if anything like that had happened - which I assure you it did not - Quinn's loyalty lies with me. Besides," she added. "Julliard wasn't like that. We were all too focused on our careers and honing our talents. Beer pong and frat parties weren't really our scene."

"Julliard?" he questioned, "The ballet school? You're a dancer?"

There was no mistaking the astonishment in his tone. Rachel bit back a smug smile, pleased that she had finally managed to surprise him and shake up his view of her.

"Was," she corrected. "And Julliard isn't just a 'ballet school', it's a school for the Performing Arts. I am what you would call a triple threat. I can act, sing and dance."

"Huh, no shit?"

She didn't know what the appropriate response to that comment was, so she offered no more information.

"Were you like, good? Why did you go to Julliard if you were just going to become a music teacher?" He was floored by this revelation. He thought he'd had her all figured out and it turns out, Rachel Berry might end up being the exact opposite of predictable and boring.

"I am very talented, yes." She answered confidently. "And I didn't go to Julliard to 'just become a teacher'," she quoted, insulted. "I wanted to sing on Broadway. I _did_ sing on Broadway, for a while anyway." Her voice dropped on that last bit, her tone becoming more subdued.

"What happened?" He ventured gently, catching the shadow that past over her face.

**_Injury? Harsh competition? An adamant refusal to sleep with casting directors?_**

"Eli happened," Rachel replied simply. "It was apparent from the moment Shelby told me she was pregnant that there was no way she could care for him herself. Performing 8 shows a week would not put me in a position to offer any support - I had to quit."

"You_ had_ to quit?" he emphasized. "Why? Why not let Shelby deal with her own mistakes?"

Rachel's pensive expression dropped and she turned her heated stare in his direction. "Eli was not a mistake." She told him firmly, her voice rising with every word. "That boy is the best thing that ever happened to me and although admittedly, I gave up my career and my dreams in exchange for having him in my life, it's not a decision I have ever regretted - not for one second. If you think differently and can't tell me now with utter certainty that you'll never resent including him in _your_ life, you pull over right now!"

Her chest was heaving and she was practically vibrating with anger.

Puck had to bite his tongue to keep from delivering a scathing reply. He had to realize that she was a fierce lioness out to protect her young and Eli was quite obviously, her cub to protect.

"I'll never regret him." He told her tightly, "I never _would_ have regretted him, if I was given the chance to know him from the start. I promise you Rachel, I'm not out to hurt him. He's my son." At his words, her fury just seemed to diminish and she slumped back against the seat.

Hank lifted his head and whined, disturbed by her movement as well as her near-yelling.

"I-I know. It's just that-" she broke off.

She let out a loud sigh and when Hank nudged her hand, she patted him soothingly.

"I'm sorry Noah," she offered. "I didn't mean to imply you would be anything less than a fully committed parent. I'm overly sensitive when it comes to Eli, I apologize."

"You don't need to apologize to me Rachel," he turned to look at her, "Not when it comes to that. Your commitment to raising my son is the thing I like best about you." He confided seriously.

"Is that the only thing you like about me?" She asked unexpectedly, drawing his gaze to her lips as her tongue darted out to moisten them.

Puck paused, dragging his eyes away from her mouth and back to the road. "No, that's not the only thing."

They plunged into an uncomfortable silence that was broken only when Rachel told him quietly to take the next exit. She continued to give directions until they pulled onto a leafy green street and she pointed out an apartment block halfway down on the left side of the road. "This is where we live."

Puck pulled over and eyed the building critically- still a soldier on his mission. It was a nice apartment building he supposed, as far as apartment buildings went - two stories high, freshly painted, nice landscaping. Puck was aware that he couldn't stand the thought of his son living here.

"Come on Hank," Puck coaxed, sliding out his door and stretching his legs gratefully. "Out."

"Oh, he can't come in." Rachel said hastily, her eyes widening at that mere suggestion.

Puck narrowed his own eyes at her. "What? Why?"

"No pet's in the building. It's not allowed."

_**That was lesson two**_. Right after he convinced her that you didn't settle in life, he was going to have to teach her that _**too many rules were damaging to a small boys spirit**_. Scratch that, to _anyone's_ spirit. Imagine a world with so many insane rules that one well-mannered, one hundred percent housebroken animal would be banned from a building! Puck just couldn't understand it.

"Tell you what," Puck whistled, signalling Hank to follow him. "Let's live dangerously."

Rachel glared at him and muttered, "What do you think we've been doing these last 12 hours with you behind the wheel?"

He ignored her and lifted her suitcase easily from the back of his truck. She held out her hand to take the case from him but he shook his head, "I've got it. Lead on."

She locked her jaw stubbornly and with her fists clenched tightly to her sides, she marched up the paved path towards the front security entrance. Puck watched her hips sway side to side as she walked, admiring the way the denim hugged her ass.

See? If she just kept silent, their relationship would be that much more enjoyable.

There were neat flower beds lining the sidewalk, which Puck would have hated even if he didn't have an aversion to roses, because he was sure a small boy would get in trouble for trampling on them-it looked like that kind of place. He spotted a large 'Keep Off The Grass' sign on the manicured lawn and sighed; the entire area screamed NO FUN ZONE.

The front door was locked and Rachel had to punch a long sequence of keys to gain entrance into the building.

"Crime rate high here?" Puck asked conversationally, but didn't feel all that conversational. If her answer was yes, that was it. Mission revised immediately. He would be packing both Eli and Rachel into his truck and whisking them back to Lima, never to be returned. That was about the scariest thought Puck had ever had - Rachel Berry living in Lima permanently? He had a sinking feeling that his mother was going to love Rachel on sight. That was his second scariest thought.

He could run his mission on the timeline he'd given himself, no problem. A couple of weeks and he'd send Eli and Rachel home, happier and better equipped to roll with life's punches and then, like he planned, he'd keep in contact and visit occasionally. But he couldn't take any prolonged one-on-one contact with her. No, he needed her safely on the other end of a telephone; he couldn't resist the scent of lemons forever.

"Of course it's not a high crime area," Rachel was stating, like it should have been obvious. "I did my research before I moved us in here. This area has one of the lowest instances of assaults and burglary's on the entire island. But there are places in the world you have to lock your doors you know."

_**Oh really, the entire island?**_ He scoffed. Of course knew there were places where you had to lock your doors. He just didn't happen to believe his son should be living in one of them.

Rachel led him through a nice foyer. It had a light colored leather couch that looked like it would mark easily, a carpet that probably came from some bazaar in Istanbul and a four foot vase spouting peacock feathers. Aside from looking fucking ridiculous, it was obviously very breakable. Puck figured that a kid running around or dribbling a ball through here was another of those things that was '_just not allowed'_.

Hank had strayed from Puck's side and was sniffing a large potted plant and instantly forgot he was well-mannered and 100% housebroken.

"No!" Puck scolded as Hank lifted his leg. The dog dropped his leg and gave him a hurt look. "Well who can blame him?" he defended against Rachel's I-told-you-so-look. "It confused him to find a tree inside."

The tree was about 6 foot high, large enough for a small boy to climb. Puck bet that was frowned upon as well.

Hank was whining softly as they got in the elevator and when it stopped on the second floor, he raced out, almost knocking over an elderly woman in a pink jogging suit who had been punching the button impatiently.

"Well I never," she huffed indignantly.

_**Fuck,**_ Puck scowled. _**A building full of uptight people!**_

"Miss Berry, really." The old bat reprimanded. "There are no dogs allowed in this building, as you well know."

Rachel gave him a baleful look and he took a deep lungful of air, deliberately increasing his chest size. He disliked Ms Pink Jogging Suit on principle. He would bet good money she used that tone of voice when talking to his boy, 'No running,' she probably screeched. 'Too much noise… don't play on the grass'.

"Undercover." Puck snarled, gesturing to the dog. "K-9".

Pink Jogging Suit gasped, eyeing him with avid interest. Casting a last, speculative glance at Rachel, she reluctantly nodded and got in the elevator.

Rachel's mouth set into a very tight line. "How could you do that?" She demanded, "She believed you! I have to live in this building. It'll be the talk of the laundry room that I was escorted into the building by a drug sniffing dog."

Puck laughed, "After the rumors you've started about my life this week? We're not even close to being even." He told her dryly. "Besides, you can't hold me accountable for what that crazy bitch thinks. I never told her I was a cop, that would be illegal."

"You did so," Rachel countered, annoyed. "You said-" She stopped as she remembered his exact wording.

He grinned. "Undercover. Not a lie, I'm pretty good under covers." He winked at her and she blushed. It was all part of the plan, to shock her a bit, loosen her up. The more time she thought about him under the covers the better; after all, it wouldn't be long until she was joining him there.

"And Hank in most definitely a canine. Also not a lie."

It was then he noticed something very interesting. The tightness around her mouth wasn't because she was holding herself in check, wanting to bitch him out. It was because she was trying not to laugh.

There was hope for Rachel Berry yet.

She swallowed the giggles that were threatening to spill over and continued down the hall. Stopping at a door at the end of the corridor, she knocked firmly and inserted her key into the lock. Before she could actually turn the knob, it was flung wide open and her knees were attacked by a pint-sized quarterback.

Rachel laughed then; a rich and joyous sound that almost distracted him from the miracle that was his son. Almost.

The boy was beautiful; sturdy and strong. Other fathers had their moment in the delivery room, but having already been robbed of that, this was Puck's. Nothing in his life experience had prepared him for the sheer wonder and glorious reality that of this miniature version of him.

Puck noticed immediately his own features stamped across Eli's face. They had the same coloring, the same nose, the same mouth, the same ears…. And just as Rachel had said, Eli's eyes were the exact same shade of hazel he looked at in the mirror every day, though the boys sparkled brightly with mischief and undiluted happiness.

"You're home!" Eli exclaimed, holding his hands up to Rachel who bent down and picked him up with surprising strength, like he weighed nothing at all.

At the sound of his high pitched voice, Puck felt faint. It was like he'd been socked in the gut, but in a good way. His son. His own flesh and blood, so vibrant with energy you could almost sense the life just pouring off the little boy in waves.

"Did you miss me?" Rachel asked him, unable to contain her wide smile. For an answer, Eli clutched her face between his tiny hands and rained wet kisses over her face that she pretended to try and evade while laughing helplessly. Puck watched them with tightness in his chest. At that moment, Puck had a glimpse of who Rachel really was and knew what she'd said earlier, about having given up everything for the boy and having no regrets, was absolutely true.

She didn't look like a woman who had sacrificed anything. For a moment, his mission faltered. She didn't look like a woman who needed _any_ help from him at all.

A movement out of the corner of his eye drew his attention and he looked away from Rachel and Eli who were talking in hushed whispers and saw a startlingly attractive blonde walking tentatively towards him.

"Hello," she greeted, with an unsure smile. "I'm Quinn." She held out a slim hand for him to shake. Her bright green eyes darted worriedly to the other two occupants in the room and Puck could read her concern.

Puck considered himself somewhat of a moron when it came to sensitivity but it was blindingly apparent that despite Rachel having called ahead and warning her of his arrival, Quinn was apprehensive about what his sudden appearance meant for Rachel and the little boy. He had to let her know that he came in peace, even if he did have every intention of turning her friend's world upside down.

"I'm Puck." He replied, taking her hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze, looking her straight in the eyes. Quinn considered him for a long moment and then smiled, and suddenly the fear in her eyes was replaced with warmth.

Puck looked back at Rachel who had viewed the exchange between Quinn and himself with something akin to suspicion. Eli was nestled into her shoulder now and when their eyes met, Eli's thumb found its way into his mouth and he took a few happy slurps on it.

Was four too old for thumb sucking? For the first time, Puck realized that this fatherhood stuff might not be as simple as setting Rachel on the right track. It was pretty fucking complicated actually. How was he supposed to know what the right track was? No wonder Rachel read books on the subject!

"Eli, this is Puck." Rachel introduced gently, catching the little boy's eyes with her own. They had discussed it on the drive down and decided they didn't want to overwhelm him initially with the news Puck was his father. "Puck is a friend of mine."

Rachel looked over at him and smiled warmly, sensing how floored he was having come face to face with his son for the first time. "Puck, this is Eli."

Eli studied him carefully, then the thumb popped out of his mouth. "Huwo." He smiled tentatively, showing a gap in his front teeth. Puck could feel his heart swell, his son liked him!

"Hey buddy." He managed to answer, feeling the tightness in his throat.

Unfortunately, the reunion was cut short, because at that moment, Eli spotted Hank.

"Puppy!" he squealed with delight, wiggling in Rachel's arms until she put him down.

Eli dropped to his knees in front of the dog and he and Hank regarded each other with interest before sighing, that same happy, contented sound. He threw his arms around the dog and kissed him as thoroughly as he had done to Rachel only moments before.

Rachel blanched. "Yucky! Don't kiss the dog Eli, Hank has germs!"

**_Lesson three: Dogs germs were rarely deadly. In fact, they were one of life's delights._** Deal with it.

Eli, thankfully, gave his sister a look of injured disbelief. Hank, insulted, shook the child off and ambled off to explore the apartment, curious about his new territory. Eli scrambled to his feet and followed eagerly behind him.

"A dog lover." Puck breathed in satisfaction.

Rachel stepped forward so she was standing next to him as they both watched Eli and Hank weaving in and out of each room.

"Must be genetic," she commented woefully, though when Puck looked down at her, her eyes were fixed on the little guy and she was smiling.

Rachel turned to hug Quinn and the two woman headed for the kitchen, leaving Puck to his own devices. He took his time roaming around the apartment. It was the furnishings that reminded Puck of just how crucial his mission was; it was no place for a child. Though it was a nice enough apartment, it was tiny and distinctly feminine. There was a disconcerting amount of pink in the décor and there were all kinds of little breakable trinkets that were not conducive to a little rough housing.

The large balcony, visible through a glass sliding door, had a little tricycle on it. The thought of Eli riding his trike around in that little space reminded Puck painfully of a baby tiger prowling its cage. Toys, instead of being in a messy heap in the middle of the floor, were stacked neatly in large plastic boxes on the bookshelf, marked "blocks", "cars" and "soldiers". A single, large yellow Tonka truck - obviously a gift from Finn - was sitting in the middle of the rug. Puck wanted to time it, to see how long it was allowed to stay there.

A few minutes later, Rachel reappeared with a steaming mug of coffee and handed it to him. "I'm going to be evicted," she remarked sorrowfully when the dog and the boy romped nosily back in the room to circle around the couch. It confirmed Puck's worse suspicion that good, healthy, wholesome noise was frowned upon in a place like this. Puck refrained from saying he could think of worse things than them being evicted from the vortex of fun, only because he couldn't help but notice the softness in her gaze as she watched Eli tumble across the carpet with Hank.

He sat down carefully on the couch - it looked brand new and like it might easily damaged by the weight of a real man (sorry Finn). It was light beige, which he thought was a dumb color if you were planning on raising a small boy. From his vantage point he could see the two doors to the bedrooms just off the living room that he had briefly peeked inside. Eli's room was a bright and cheerful space, done up in bright primary colors. Rachel's, next door, was done in virginal whites.

Virginal.

Puck knew he was overtired, because he was seriously contemplating asking her. He almost laughed out loud, imagining how she would answer that question. 'Hey Berry,' he'd say, 'Are you still packing your V-card?'

Thankfully, the dog raced by, barking, with Eli hot on his heels, shrieking and making a racket. The noise effectively distracted him. It would do no good to shake her up too badly. If he was to alienate her this early on, the mission would fail.

As Puck watched his son and Hank play, he smiled, aware that this smile was acutely different from any smile he'd ever smiled before. Eli was bright and rambunctious and 100% boy. Rachel had wanted a father for her brother, well she had found him. Of course, she still had to be dissuaded from this nuclear family crap she had got her mind set on, but they could effectively parent together, that much he was certain.

Eli laughed and Puck felt something in him relax in a way he couldn't ever remember relaxing before. He sank back into the couch cushions and set his coffee mug on the coffee table, feeling his eyelids droop. The last thing he heard was Rachel moaning that her downstairs neighbour was going to start banging on the ceiling with her broom at any moment. Puck mumbled something about dealing with that when it happened, and then his head rolled to the side and he was out like a light.

_**A/N: Review?**_


	5. Manipulative Behavior

_**A/N: How hot were the pictures of Mark on the MTV red carpet? Phoooooar!**_

_**Hope you guys enjoy this chapter! I've been neglecting my other fic, 'Choices and Consequences', so I'm going to concentrate on that for a bit. Will try and bring you more Eli, Puck and Rachel by the weekend though. Oh and more Finn too - let's watch Puck squirm :P**_

* * *

"He's so nice," Quinn whispered to Rachel as they sat at the kitchen table drinking tea.

Hank was asleep under the kitchen table and Eli was asleep right on top of him; already the two were inseparable.

"I hope he doesn't have fleas.' Rachel said flatly, lifting the cup up to her lips.

"Puck?" Quinn asked in confusion.

"Of course not, I was talking about the beast under the table." Three males under her roof for the first time in history and all of them were fast asleep. And all of them snored. It seemed entirely unfair that she knew Puck snored but had no idea whether Finn did or not. She and Finn hadn't quite managed to get themselves in sync when it came to the physical intimacy department. Sure they'd had sex, a few times, but Finn had a slight problem with 'arriving early' and it was something they constantly had to work on. Usually, after another disastrous attempt, Finn would make some excuse as to why he needed to go home, though Rachel suspected it might have more to do with his embarrassment than any pressing urgency to get back to Abby-the-Tabby.

"I was talking about Puck, but the dog's nice too." Quinn engaged her in a smile.

Quinn thought everyone was nice. She could cut you down with her ice queen stare and deliver a scathing insult better than anyone she knew, but the blonde was just about the sweetest person Rachel had ever met.

"You've exchanged names and a handshake with Noah Puckerman," Rachel reminded her, "that's hardly a reference from his minister."

Quinn laughed at her friend's irritation. "I thought you said Puck was Jewish. Besides, I'm sure you've got all the angles covered. He wouldn't be here right now if you hadn't liked what you'd found out about him."

Rachel shifted uncomfortably. Well that wasn't entirely true, but there was no sense in Quinn knowing the humiliating truth, that he had wrestled the upper hand from her quite effortlessly.

"He's also," Quinn continued, leaning over the table and lowering her voice even further, "super cute."

Rachel didn't think 'super cute' really captured him but she decided not to argue that point either. That would only tell her best friend something that she had no intention of divulging. Handsome, chiselled, powerfully masculine - all words that came to mind with alarming ease. Of course, over 11 hours in the cab of a truck, what else was there to notice, besides Hank? The passing landscape that repeated itself endlessly? Or the 'dashing' hero in her novel, who suddenly seemed just a little bit insipid?

Rachel now knew things about Noah that she considered irrelevant to her objective, yet she couldn't seem to drive them from her mind. She knew he drummed the steering wheel with one hand and that the large muscles of his thigh leapt to life as he changed gears, looking like steel as they pressed into the faded fabric of his jeans. She discovered his biceps bulged and flexed at the slightest hint of motion, like when he reached out to change the station on the radio, and his whiskers grew in fast and dark. He hummed along to the songs he liked but never burst out into song the way he had that night she had caught him in the shower. He threw his trash on the floor. He swore at other drivers. She knew exactly what Noah smelled like for heaven's sake; clean and strong with a hint of spice. Distinctly masculine.

It seemed that she knew more about Noah than she'd ever set out to learn. She just wanted to know that he was a decent man, that he'd be a good father to Eli. Instead she knew his scent and his complete disregard for the cleanliness of his truck. She could identify his thigh muscles in a line up and could recall with perfect clarity the taste of his lips.

"Are you blushing?" Quinn wanted to know, observing Rachel with interest.

"Of course not!" she denied, but just in case, she tried desperately to remember what Finn smelled like. She wasn't able to.

"You couldn't tell me over the phone, so tell me now. What is Puck's doing here?"

Rachel took another sip of her tea, before setting in down on the coaster in front of her.

"As soon as he found out he had a son he piled me into the truck and drove us down here." She admitted finally. "He wants to take Eli and I back to Lima with him for a few weeks, so they can get to know one another."

"He's not going to try and gain full custody is he?" Quinn asked, her green eyes wide.

Rachel shook her head, "I have the situation under control," she assured her friend even though she had felt anything but in control from the moment Puck had bullied her into his truck in the middle of the night.

"Noah seems quite taken with the idea of having a son but we haven't broached the subject of custodial arrangements as yet. I think he understands it's in Eli's best interest to remain with me." Well if Puck didn't know that yet, he soon would.

"You should marry him," Quinn suggested dreamily, resting her chin in her hand.

Rachel spluttered, "Marry Noah?" she clarified incredulously, ignoring the fact that she had briefly considered the prospect herself. But as he pointed out, quite effusively, he wasn't interested in marriage. "There's more to marriage than the prospective bridegroom's good looks, you know. Besides, that position has already been filled." She held up her left hand and wiggled her ring finger at Quinn, reminding her friend -and herself - that she was already spoken for.

Quinn rolled her eyes, "Come on Rachel, you know I adore Finn, but there's also more to marriage than a stainless steel stovetop, which, as I've told you time and time again, is ugly!"

"Finally, a woman around here that talks some sense," Puck stated standing in the doorway, looking dishevelled from his nap and annoyingly quite adorable. "Isn't this stainless steel on the rim of your stove here?"

Rachel nodded warily, wondering how long he'd been standing there and whether he had been listening in on the part of the conversation where Quinn tried to marry her off to him, or the part where she alluded to his attractiveness.

Puck pressed his finger against the burner rim on the stove, studied the spot and then shook his head with disgust. "Just as I thought," he said, "Fingerprints. Come and take a look if you don't believe me."

Rachel made a noise that conveyed her exasperation, "And your discovery would interest me for what reason?"

"Little boys leave fingerprints," he stated obviously.

"Not if they have clean hands," she retorted acidly, staring daggers at Quinn who dared to giggle at their exchange.

Puck took a moment to grin at Quinn, pleased he seemed to have made an ally. "Well, hopefully that's hardly ever. Kids get dirty Rachel. Nope, don't think stainless steel appliances and kids mix."

"I know children get dirty," she bit back, "and I don't remember asking you for your opinion on my choice of appliances."

Puck snorted and before he could say something she was sure would be obnoxious, Quinn cut in smoothly. "He has a point, Rach."

Rachel's glare intensified.

_**Oh, traitor! Her own best friend.**_

Rachel stood up and walked over to the stove, childishly shoving Puck out of the way as she stood in front of it, almost protectively.

"Can't you two see it's not specifically about the appliances, but what they represent?"

When Puck and Quinn exchanged baffled looks, Rachel stomped her foot. "They represent family dinners, tradition."

They both still looked blank, so she rushed on. "They represent a man who actually likes domestic things. Who cares about his surroundings, who is willing to spend his money on things that may be unexciting or 'boring' even, but are things that really matter to his family. He could have brought tickets to the Super bowl for example-"

"Oh really, he could have?" Puck mocked, earning him another frown.

"But he wanted something permanent," she took a breath, "something that lasted, something of value."

"He could have framed the program," Puck countered, "or the ticket stubs."

Rachel sighed and turned away from him, her long hair falling over her face, hiding it from view. "You just don't get it."

"I do." Quinn stood up and crossed to Rachel's side, enveloping her in a hug.

Puck watched the scene with interest, waiting for Quinn to elaborate on that statement. He didn't need to wait for long.

"I don't know why you're so critical of Finn all of a sudden." Rachel said quietly when the two women pulled apart. Quinn brushed the hair back from Rachel's face and reached down to link their hands.

"I'm not being critical of Finn," She contradicted. "Finn is a great guy; I never would have introduced the two of you if I didn't think so. But Rach, I set you two up when you broke up with Jesse, that douche you dated a while back, because I knew you needed to be with someone who would treat you well. I never imagined that you would end up planning to marry the guy."

Rachel pulled her hand out of her grip, both of them temporarily oblivious to Puck's presence in the room. "What's wrong with me marrying Finn?" she demanded.

Quinn hesitated, she really didn't want to discuss it, because once she said her piece, she would never be able to take her words back. "Nothing's wrong with you marrying Finn," she said gently, carefully. "If _you_ think he can make you happy. I just worry that you chose him because he's safe, and you don't want your life to spiral out of control like Shelby's."

"That's not why I chose him." Rachel dismissed stubbornly. Quinn gave her a long, hard look.

"That's part of the reason," she insisted, "and I'm not saying that's a bad thing. Finn is incredibly supportive and when it comes to raising a family, he's exactly the kind of partner you look for. But," her eyes flickered to Puck. "Eli has a father now; he doesn't need you to marry someone anymore, just for his sake."

Puck made a sound of agreement and Rachel glanced between him and Quinn, feeling as though they were ganging up on her. She schooled her features into the blank mask of indifference.

"My relationship with Finn is no longer up for discussion. I appreciate your concern but I know what I'm doing. Finn is the man I'm choosing to spend the rest of my life with and I couldn't be happier."

Puck crossed his arms, his eyes never leaving her face. Her stiff tone was a stark contrast to her words; she certainly didn't seem happy about the prospect, _like at all_.

"Fine," he found himself saying. "If you're really going to marry this Finn dude, then I should meet him."

Rachel shook her head, "You're not meeting him."

"Yeah I am. If he's going to be apart of Eli's life I need to make sure he doesn't have any dismembered bodies in his freezer."

"Finn is not a serial killer," Rachel huffed.

"Ok, well I'm not going to be around all the time, so if he's going to be picking up some of the dad things, I need to make sure he knows the important boy stuff."

She stared at him, "He owns a hardware store," she reminded him, "nails, hammers, pipe wrenches. That's boy stuff."

Puck rolled his eyes, "Rachel, you just said the dude would pick a stove over fucking Super Bowl tickets. This is worse that I could have imagined, obviously the guy needs a bit of guidance."

"Not from you!" she spluttered.

Quinn, who was watching the exchange with amusement, asked, "What 'boy's stuff' did you have in mind?"

"You know," Puck made a general motion with his hand, "Camping, shooting, the correct way to set off firecrackers so you don't blow yourself up."

"Oh," Quinn breathed in understanding, "Boy stuff. So that's why you're taking Eli back to Lima? To teach him? That's exciting." Her smile was encouraging and Puck grinned back at her. Rachel didn't like the exchange one bit.

"Well Lima's not all that exciting," he admitted, "But the 7/11 on Main St still sells jawbreakers to kids and we boast the best mud bogs for a couple of hundred miles. I know," he assured her, "I've looked."

Rachel crossed her arms and glared at the pair of them, "Eli is not going to be shooting anything! He's too young for one thing, not that I would ever encourage him to play with firearms or fireworks for that matter- they're illegal." She informed them testily, before continuing her rant. "I won't even start on mud bogs, except to say they are a breeding ground for germs, and jawbreakers are a choking hazard for children under 5. I read it in a book."

Puck turned his smile on her, though it was condescending. "Your whole problem Rachel-"

_**How dare he insinuate she had a problem?**_

"-is that you've done far too much reading and not nearly enough living."

It was Rachel's turn to roll her eyes, "I suppose you're going to fix this problem you perceive I have?"

He may not have missed her sarcasm, but he chose to ignore it. "Exactly." He nodded, pleased, as if she was dull child who had just gotten the point.

Rachel stared at him, aghast. _**He was going to fix her problems?**_ She didn't have any problems! He should look around. There was no engine in pieces on her kitchen counter. She did not flaunt her body by answering the door practically naked, or break the rules by marching a dog through a building where animals were specifically prohibited.

And if insinuating she had problems was not bad enough, he was going to pick on Finn? Poor, sweet, naïve Finn, who would be blissfully unaware of Puck's blatant disdain for his character.

The unadulterated ego of the man! Rachel had always known this about good looking men. They were just far too sure of themselves, cocky to the point of being offensive.

After opening and closing her mouth several times, she finally found her voice. "Why you sanctimonious so and so!"

Puck laughed in Quinn's direction, all easygoing charm and none of the irritation and unpleasantness Rachel felt he directed at her.

"She was going to call me a son-of-a-bitch then, wasn't she?"

Quinn nodded in solemn agreement, swallowing her giggles, "I think so."

"That's good; I think it would be great for Eli if she learned to relax a bit. You know - if she wasn't so fucking perfect all the time, tried to be human - lost her shit every now and then."

Puck was talking to Quinn as if Rachel wasn't in the room.

"Excuse me? Lose my shit?" she inserted herself into the conversation, repeating his refrain, horrified. "Swearing in front of children is being 'human'? Then no thank you. And I do not lose my temper."

"Well the child is sleeping," he reasoned. "So you could probably let your guard down a bit. And you know what? I think I detect a bit of pissy in your attitude right now."

"My guard is always up," Rachel said, carefully modulating her tone.

"That's what I'm afraid of."

"Kindly refrain from talking about me as if I'm some big project you've undertaken. You are not interrogating Finn. He does not need any advice from _you_, nor do I!"

"Hey, I'm just trying to get the lay of the land here." Puck said easily, strolling over to the phone on the counter, picking up the phone book from underneath it and flipped through to the yellow pages. "Fuck, would you look at that? Only one Hudson's Hardware and Electrical store on the whole of Long Island."

"Don't you dare." Her voice was very low.

"What do you know?" he continued, reading from the advertisement as if he hadn't heard her. "Hudson is one of Long Island's exclusive dealers of Sunbeam Stainless steel appliances. Betcha he got that fridge and stove at cost."

He was dialling the number, having the audacity to wink at her.

Rachel could not believe this. She had always taken great pains to handle every situation with the three C's: calmness, compassion and composure. Yet here she was, leaping across the kitchen, trying to tear the phone out of the hands of a man who was holding it out of her reach and laughing at her as if she was an over-enthusiastic puppy.

"Finn Hudson please." Puck requested, holding Rachel at arms length with easy strength.

Quinn was leaning over in her chair, holding her stomach as she gave in to her uncontrollable giggles. If she wasn't careful, she'd wake Eli. Not to mention the dead.

"Hey Finn, Noah Puckerman here. I'm a friend of Rachel Berry's. Did she happen to mention me to you?"

Puck was quirking her eyebrow at her as he listened, "She didn't? Wow, that's weird." Puck smirked at her.

She gave up trying to wrestle the phone from him, folding her arms over her chest again - a move that was becoming habitual in his presence- and squinted evilly at him.

Apparently, Noah Puckerman was not intimidated by evil squints.

"Rach didn't tell you she chased me all the way down to Lima, Ohio?" Puck was saying, injecting false amazement into his tone. "She told you what? Going away on school business?" he held the phone away from his mouth and made a 'tsk, tsk' sound at her.

Quinn was practically rolling around on the floor by this time, suddenly immune to the evil squint, too.

Rachel added a foot tap to her pose. It was a stance that had quelled dozens of unruly school children, but Puck just continued to smirk at her with one eyebrow cocked in the infuriatingly confident manner.

"I'm Eli's dad. She found a picture of me amongst Shelby's things and figured it out. Clever girl, huh?"

He paused. "Oh, you don't think she's a girl?" Puck ran his eyes lewdly over her in a deliberately disconcerting manner, "You're right, she is all woman, but I like to think there's plenty of girl left in her."

As Rachel gaped at his blatant perusal of her body, he got to the point of the phone call. "Anyways, I understand things between you and Rach are getting quite serious and I thought that, since you're going to be a big part of Eli's life, we should meet. How does tonight work for you?"

"Sure, after dinner is great. Your place? That'd be great, let me just check with Rachel." He held the phone against his chest. "Finn invited us over to his place. What do you think?" Without waiting for an answer he asked Quinn if she could stay and watch Eli, to which the blonde readily agreed.

What was wrong with this picture? Rachel asked herself. He was acting as if _they_ were the couple. And it was his chest she'd seen and his lips she'd been kissing; her whole world was going wrong and somehow it was all Noah's fault!

"I am not giving into this manipulative behavior." She growled.

Puck just smiled and brought the phone back up to his ear, "She's busy, but I'm game. See you at 8. She'll tell me where to go, I'm sure."

_**I'll tell you where to go alright**_, Rachel felt like screaming.

"You are NOT going to meet Finn."

"Why?" he wanted to know. "Are you ashamed of him?" He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the counter, amusement lighting his hazel gaze. She tore her eyes away from his flexing biceps.

"Of course I'm not ashamed of Finn." She denied, though privately, she had to wonder how he would stack up on Puck's scale- he would probably laugh at Finn's naivety, scorn his stainless steel appliances and eye his cat with distaste.

"You have no right to barge into my life like this."

Puck stared at her, "I hate to remind you sweetheart, but it was you who started this barging business. You snooped all over fucking Lima looking for dirt on my private life. At least I'm asking questions out in the open."

"We are not going to Finn's tonight." She reiterated firmly, proud that not once did her voice waver.

"_You_ might not be going to Finn's tonight, but I am. Actually, it might be better if you don't come. I'll stop off and pick up a bottle of Jack. Might loosen his tongue a bit and I'll learn everything there is to know about you." He tapped his nose with his finger and she bristled.

"You're horrible! Finn doesn't know everything there is to know about me anyway."

He took his time answering her, giving her a long, searching look. "Well that's whacked. If anyone should know everything, it should be him. I mean, if you intend to marry him."

He said that as if he doubted the seriousness of their wedding plans.

"Does Finn know you wear lace bras?" he asked with extreme casualness, as if he were asking her whether she had caught the weather forecast that morning.

Quinn gasped appreciatively.

"No he does not!"

As soon as he grinned, Rachel knew she had been played by a master. He was trying to find out if she'd been intimate with Finn and she actually found herself blushing.

Rachel wondered why on earth he was interested, since he had made in quite clear he wanted no part in the domestic bliss that would come from creating a perfect family for Eli.

She swiftly gathered her wits and regarded him coolly. "He does not, because as I'm sure you can appreciate, the time I invest in raising _your_ son puts a dampener on my leisure activities. Finn and I make the most of our time together and that entails me dressing in the most minimalist of attire whenever we meet."

His smile turned into a frown and Quinn looked between the two with thinly veiled interest. As they glared at each other, Rachel drew herself up to her full height. Enough was enough. These little word games and power struggles were going to end. Naturally, with her as the victor. She could imagine nothing worse than leaving Puck alone with Finn, to pry all the details of their relationship out of him. And Finn, being the admittedly simple man that he was, would be none the wiser to Puck's hidden agenda. Of course, if those details were a whole that more interesting than they were in actuality, she might have a different attitude. She wasn't privy to the conversations men were prone to have when there were no females within earshot, but Rachel had heard the topics tended to revolve around sports, cars and women. She couldn't have Finn divulging his little 'problem' to Puck. She would never hear the end of it.

"If you go and see Finn," she stated regally, "Eli and I will not be accompanying you back to Lima."

Quinn gasped again, this time in horror.

Though his casual stance did not change and his face remained blank, Puck's eyes narrowed, burning her with their intensity.

"That's your big trump card, Sweetheart. Are you sure you want to play that so early in the game?"

"Don't call me Sweetheart!" she exclaimed in annoyance.

"Just answer the question." He spat back, equally as pissed.

"I mean it!"

"Okay," he accepted slowly, "I mean this. I'm prepared to keep this nice and friendly. I want to get to know my son and all the people who are going to be major players in his life. Then, I want you and me to reach a mutually agreeable decision about what my involvement in his life is going to be."

"I can tell you're going to be a good mom to Eli and that you have a great support system," he nodded at Quinn who blushed prettily at him, "I have no interest in changing that. I want to visit him, be involved and know what's going on in his life. That doesn't seem like too much to ask for; nothing that needs to involve a judge and a couple of overpriced lawyers."

She swallowed as he took a step closer, "But," his voice softened dangerously, "if you try and keep me from doing what I think is in my son's best interests, or pull some shit like you just did, threatening to keep me from him, the friendliness ends. Got it?"

She found herself nodding and then could have kicked herself when she did.

Rachel took in his blazing eyes, the firm mouth - fixed in an uncompromising line – and the tension in his broad shoulders. She figured she didn't want him as an enemy, yet she couldn't quite fathom having him as a friend.

Just like that, he was in control again.

She turned stiffly towards Quinn. "Your pot roast smells divine Q, but I'm not feeling all that hungry. I'm going to have a shower and a nap."

"Ok," Quinn answered. When Rachel's gaze turned to the sleeping boy laying on top of Hank, her friend prodded her gently. "Go, I'll feed Eli and give him a bath."

"Thank you," she exited the room with her chin held high, without looking in Puck's direction.

She showered and donned her most comfortable pajamas, tossing restlessly under her covers until she fell into a fitful sleep. When she awoke an hour later, she knew she was going to Finn's. Apparently, so did Quinn, because the daring, little red dress she'd worn to a cast party, years ago, was laid out carefully across the end of her bed.

Rachel fingered the material and scoffed. What a ridiculous dress to wear over to Finn's. She assumed they would be talking quietly over a cup of coffee or the guys might have a beer and some chips. A swipe of lipstick, a fresh pair of pants and a sweater would be fine. Still, she considered, the dress was right there. It wouldn't hurt to try it on, would it? To see if it still fit?

It did. Like a glove.

As she stood in front of her full length mirror, she couldn't remember it looking quite this naughty the last time she'd worn it. The dress was strapless, the bodice cupping her breasts and pushing them upwards, creating an impressive cleavage she couldn't stop staring at. The hem stopped inches above her knees, with a slit up one side that displayed a large expanse of tanned thigh as she moved.

Rachel spun around, admiring her ass in the reflection. From 'schoolmarm' to siren in the blink of an eye. Her legs looked longer, her bust looked fuller, the air on her naked shoulders made her feel…sensuous.

What was Quinn thinking?

Still, it was fun looking at herself in it. What had Puck called her? Little Miss Control Freak? Uptight? Suddenly she was tired of being dismissed. She was going to make both of them - Puck _and_ Finn – sit up and take notice. There was more than one way to take control of a man. She licked her lips and smiled. Maybe Puck was right; she needed to loosen up a bit.

When she emerged from the bedroom at 20 to eight, teetering on black stilettos, she had curled her hair and it was falling gently around her shoulders. She had put on a darker lipstick than what she would normally wear and her eyes were smoky and positively smouldering.

Puck was rolling around on the floor with Eli and Hank when she entered the living room. They had dog-piled him and he was lying underneath them, with his eyes closed tight, pretending he was pinned and completely at their mercy. The dog was licking his face and Eli was sitting atop his chest, pressing his weight against Puck's arms, trying to keep him immobile.

"I got ya Puck, do you see? I got ya!" He was exclaiming happily.

Puck laughed, opening his eyes. "Yeah you do buddy. You've got quite a grip there."

When he caught sight of her, he went very still. His laughter died abruptly and his eyes darkened. She suppressed a shiver at the appreciation she saw in his gaze.

Gently, he nudged Eli off of his chest and pushed Hank away from his face as he stood. He studied her for so long, his heated gaze raking up and down her form, lingering on her legs.

Quinn, who was leaning against the doorframe in the background, gave her a discreet thumbs up.

"Well, well, well." He drawled, "This is a surprise."

"I dress like this all the time," she lied, with a toss of her head. Eli spoiled her claim by running over to Quinn and hiding behind her legs, peeking out as if he'd never seen her before.

Puck glanced at her legs again and let out a low whistle. "Those schoolboys you teach must be in heaven."

Rachel laughed gaily, "For Finn, silly." She got the desired reaction. He frowned, his eyebrows furrowing almost menacingly.

Quinn cleared her throat, "Well, have a good night you two. I think it's bedtime for Eli. Say goodnight to Rachel and Puck sweetheart."

Eli crossed to Puck without hesitation, lifting his arms up for a hug. Puck swooped him up in his strong arms and held him close for a moment. Rachel tried to steel herself against the image, but couldn't help the way she melted at the sight of father and son, their dark heads bent close together.

"Puppy stays?" Eli asked hopefully.

"Yeah buddy, puppy stays."

Rachel crossed over to them and Eli wiggled out of Puck's embrace and into hers.

"Goodnight baby." She whispered against the crown of his hair, breathing in his scent- baby powder and….what was that? She sniffed harder. Was it…dog?

"Sing?" Eli mumbled tiredly into her shoulder.

She squeezed him tight, mourning the fact that she was going to be away from him for yet another bedtime. She'd missed him these last couple of days and she couldn't help but feel guilty that she was leaving him once again in Quinn's care and deviating from their nightly ritual.

"Not tonight," She said regretfully. "I love you pumpkin."

"Wuv you." He replied, smacking a wet kiss on her cheek and reaching out for Quinn who came forward to take him. She smiled at Rachel and Puck and carried the little boy to the bathroom to brush his teeth.

When Rachel turned back to Puck, she realized, disconcertedly, that he was standing very close to her.

"I don't believe you dress this way for Finn," he said softly in a tone that sent tingles up and down her spine. "Which would mean you dressed like this for me."

"I didn't!"

He lowered his head, just as if she had said she _had_ done it for him. Really, she should have seen it coming. She did see it coming. But maybe she wanted to taste him again, just because he was a forbidden fruit.

It was different from their first kiss, the one on his front porch, and unlike the brief kiss they'd shared in her hotel room the night before. His lips were soft, tender and questioning. They moved over hers lightly, delicately; she felt something in her give and she parted her lips slightly in invitation.

He pulled away immediately and of course, she had to act as if he had stolen the kiss against her will, as if she wasn't right there in the moment with him. There seemed to be only one way for her to make her point.

"Ow! Fuck woman!" He hopped on one leg, rubbing the spot where the toe of her stiletto had connected with his shin. "You kicked me!" He exclaimed, incredulous, but with a knowing smile that set her teeth on edge.

For a woman who prided herself of her control, she sure did seem to have a passionate reaction to him. He couldn't help but be proud of that fact.

"I didn't put on this dress for you," she snapped, "don't flatter yourself!" But she could feel the flush in her cheeks.

She spent a miserable evening at Finn's crumbling a cookie in her lap and sipping on her tea. Finn made no comment on her appearance, save from the general, "You look nice," he had greeted her with upon their arrival, as he kissed her cheek.

Puck didn't seem to be passing any kind of judgement on Finn at all. In fact, the two men seemed to be getting along brilliantly, like they'd been friends for years. They both loved cars and football, and both agreed the Yankees sucked ass.

And neither man seemed to be the least interested in her. Did either of them try to draw her into the conversation? No. Did either of them say the kind of flattering things a dress like this invited? No.

She decided, childishly, that she hated them both. _**A lot.**_

After a while, when Puck and Finn were in the midst of making plans for them to take Eli to the beach the next day, Rachel decided she couldn't listen to them any longer. Without a word, she got up and went to the kitchen. Neither of them appeared to notice. She eyed the spotless counters and glared at the stainless steel appliances.

Impulsively, she ran her palm down the front of the fridge. Sure enough, a big, ugly streak was left. She noted the mark with detached interest.

From the kitchen, she went out into the hall, intending on slipping out of the door and walking home, when she spied Puck's keys siting on the table in the entry foyer where he'd left them. She hesitated for only a second, before snatching them up and stifling her giggle. By the time she had started the truck engine, she was laughing out loud.

She wasn't so good with a stick shift so she supposed it was the grinding of gears that drew Puck and Finn to the window. She gave them a jaunty wave and backed out of the driveway; shifting into 1st gear, she rode the clutch and accelerated away - effectively abandoning him there.

Immature. Childish. Vindictive.

She could not remember the last time she felt so exhilarated!

Meanwhile, Finn was scratching his head in confusion. "Gosh," he said as he watched the taillights disappear. "Rachel just wasn't herself tonight. It isn't like her to just leave without saying goodbye. She didn't say goodbye did she?"

"Not only did she not say goodbye," Puck said, "She swiped my fucking truck!"

Finn's eyes widened, "Oh no, she'd never do that. Rachel's not like that."

But Rachel was like that, because his truck had just turned the corner, out of sight.

"She'll come back," Finn predicted, "She probably just noticed I was out of milk or something and went to get some. She's thoughtful."

It seemed to Puck that Finn was hardly an expert on anything to do with Rachel Berry.

Because Rachel had not gone for milk,_ had_ swiped his truck and was not coming back. He slid the fiancée an assessing look. He really hadn't expected to like the guy so much. Once he had gotten over the shock of Finn's freakishly tall frame, boyish good looks and pleasant demeanour, he had discovered that he was a truly decent guy. He was actually pretty funny and Rachel had been right - he knew about boys stuff; sports, cars and the like.

But he seemed dense to the point of oblivious stupidity. He hadn't even blinked when Rachel had sashayed in his front door wearing THAT dress. He hadn't even _noticed _her dress, or the assets that were threatening to spill out of it, when Puck hadn't been able to breathe all night! Every time she'd crossed her legs and bared more of her bare thigh, had sighed and licked her lips, he'd had to focus hard on what Finn was saying. His attention had been glued to her - even if his eyes hadn't –acutely aware of every breath she had taken.

An hour later, Finn finally accepted she wasn't coming back. "It's really not like her," he repeated, as if he had to apologize for her actions.

But Puck had a not unhappy suspicion that swiping his truck was more like Rachel than anything she'd done in years. He honestly believed there was a certified brat lurking under that aloof demeanour.

"I better go, is there a motel nearby?" Finn gave him directions and after rejecting the offer of a ride, Puck walked out into the night, weighing up his thoughts. He did like Finn. He was everything Rachel had said he was. Nice, stable, decent. Ok, so he was a little bit on the slow side and he may not be Mr. Excitement, but Rachel could have done a lot worse for herself, and for Eli.

Finn would be a reliable kind of guy who could help provide a warm, solid home for Puck's kid. He was the kind of guy that would get up early to drive to soccer matches and help out with homework - if he understood the questions himself.

He should be happy Rachel had found such a good man who was willing to give her a hand in raising a kid that wasn't his. But ecstasy was about the furthest thing from Puck's mind, because for all that Finn was right for Eli, he was _wrong_ for Rachel.

Geez, he hadn't once taken a peak at her legs. And he had kissed her on the cheek. The cheek! When he had those lips, plump and ripe for the taking. He had no idea that she needed to lose control. No idea that the Rachel Berry that had stolen a truck and left a man stranded might be the real Rachel. Puck hoped she had been laughing as she did it. As he thought about her, delighting in her own badassness, his own lips curved up in amusement. Walking down the quiet, suburban street, Puck threw his head back and laughed. He was sure he had caught a glimpse of the real Rachel Berry and it had nothing to do with that red dress.

He found the motel and booked himself a room. He had a leisurely shower, raided the vending machine and lolled around in his underwear, watching TV until late and enjoyed the perks of being single (there'd be no one question the adult movie charge on the bill at check out).

There was no real reason he waited until after 1am before flipping open his cell and scrolling down his contact list until he found her. He suspected she wouldn't be pleased to learn she was saved under Rachel FUCKING Berry.

He could tell by her voice she hadn't been sleeping either.

"Just called to check on my dog." He said when she picked up. "And my truck."

"Hank is quite safe," she replied, her words clipped. "That horrible dog is curled up in bed with Eli. I never would have allowed it, but Quinn did." Despite the frostiness in her tone, he liked the sound of her voice reaching out to him in the dead of the night.

"Dogs are meant to sleep with boys. It's tied in with rule number three."

"Rule number three?" She parroted, confused.

"Nothing, how's my truck?"

"Totalled. I ran into a bus on the way home. Night blind, I told you."

He chuckled, the sound reverberating down the line and stoking the warmth low in her belly. "Hey, you just made a funny! Do you actually have a sense of humour buried underneath your snarky attitude?"

"No," she deadpanned. "Good night Noah."

He told himself not to say it, to just hit the 'end call' button, but there was his voice saying: "Rach? Just one more thing."

"What is it?" She asked testily.

"You looked," he paused deliberately, "Fucking _hot_ in that dress."

Silence. And then dial tone.

Puck snapped his phone shut with a grin, lying back and folding his hands under his head.

Phase one of his plan: _complete_.

* * *

_**A/N 2: Thanks to my TwitterTwin for being #TeamKelly - you rock bb! **_


	6. Beach Baby,Beach Baby,Give me your hand

_**AN: Sorry for the delay my loves, I'd like to say I've been busy but the number of hours I've spent on the couch this week is truly pathetic. Next update isn't too far away xoxo**_

* * *

Rachel shaded her eyes with one hand as she scanned the crowded beach for a spot suitable for them to set up. Eli tugged impatiently on her hand, wanting to play immediately, and she glanced down at him in warning.

"Just a moment pumpkin," she said with a gentle squeeze of his fingers. "We just need a few minutes to find the perfect location and then we'll-"

"Stuff that," Puck grumbled, pushing past her and striding the few feet to the nearest patch of unoccupied sand. He dumped the umbrella, cooler and backpacks he had hauled from the trunk of her car. "This'll do."

Rachel opened her mouth to argue when Finn and Quinn caught up with them, their arms full of snorkelling equipment, plastic buckets and shovels.

"Thank god!" Finn sighed flopping onto his back and throwing his arm over his eyes. "I thought we'd never make it. Has the parking lot always been such a trek?"

Rachel smiled at him affectionately and sank to her knees, reaching for one of the backpacks she knew had the sun block and face zinc.

Quinn busied herself setting up the umbrella, slyly kicking sand over Finn's prone form while Rachel slathered a thick coating of sunscreen over every inch of Eli's visible skin. He squirmed at her touch, loudly protesting as she rubbed the lotion into his pudgy limbs.

"No! I don't wanna be creamed!" He shrieked, twisting and turning, trying to evade her.

"Well that's too bad," she said calmly, ignoring his theatrics, "Because there'll be no paddling for you unless you're 'creamed' and zinced Master Eli."

He gazed her with wide eyes, as if he didn't believe she would deny him the activity now that they were here. But her unwavering gaze told him she was quite serious and he scowled mutinously, calming down and standing still as she swiped the bright green zinc over his cheeks and fitted a straw hat over his head.

Puck watched them with his hands on his hips, raising an eyebrow as she blew up the inflatable floaties and pulled the little boys arms carefully through the holes.

"Is all that crap really necessary?" He asked, his eyes running over his sons form, clad in a long sleeved swim shirt and spiderman trunks, his skin glistening brightly as the sun reflected off the lotion she had slathered his small frame in. His face was obstructed by the wide brimmed hat and he could barely move, hindered by the multitude of floatation devices he wore.

"Unless you want your son drowning or burning to a crisp, yes it is," she replied testily, her frown turning to a smile as she turned her attention to the little boy.

"There you go sweetheart. Do you want to swim first or build a sandcastle?"

"Swim!" Eli crowed and turned immediately to Puck, "Swim?" he said again, posing it as a question as he held his hand outstretched. Puck grinned down at him and tugged his t-shirt over his head, tossing his aviators to Rachel, who caught them deftly much to her surprise. He scooped Eli up in his arms, running with him to the water, the pair of them whooping and laughing as they went.

Rachel stared at his retreating form, mesmerized by the expanse of now-familiar bronzed skin. Quinn elbowed her discreetly and Rachel snapped her jaw shut, turning to Finn who was now sitting up and rifling around in the picnic hamper.

"Finn!" she yelled sharply, fighting back a smile as he jumped guiltily. "It's not lunch time yet and you shouldn't be eating if you plan on swimming. You'll get cramps."

He grinned goofily at her and leant forward to kiss her cheek. "You're right." He admitted and stood up. He too removed his shirt and took off in the direction Puck and Eli had just gone; his white form was more solid than Puck's and much less defined.

**_You shouldn't be comparing them_**, she told herself crossly. **_Yes, Noah has a truly impressive physique, all hard, bronzed and muscular,_** she wasn't denying it. A slow motion replay of him tugging his shirt over his head, his biceps flexing and his pectorals rippling with the movement played in her head and she had to stop her thoughts in their tracks, shaking her head as if to purge the image from her mind.

She looked up and met Quinn's knowing gaze. "What?" she demanded huffily, ignoring the heat that was flooding her cheeks; a heat that had nothing to do with the scorching midday sun.

Quinn giggled and sat down next to her best friend, nudging Rachel with her shoulder. "Admit it, you think he's gorgeous" she sing-songed, "You want to date him. You want to marry him, you want to-"

"I do not think or desire any of those things," Rachel retorted primly, squirting the sun block onto the palm and rubbing it over her own tanned limbs.

"Su-re." Quinn drew the word out to two syllables and Rachel glared at her.

"Must you be so childish?" She questioned with an arch of her eyebrow.

"Must you be so prudish?" her friend retorted easily, her smile taking the sting out of the words. "Come on Rach, let's go for a swim. It's so hot out today." Quinn wriggled out of her sundress and adjusted the bottoms on her yellow bikini.

Rachel shook her head, adjusting her own wide brimmed hat. She tugged at the hem of her oversized white beach cover up that hid her denim shorts from view. "You go," she urged, gesturing to their belongings strewn carelessly over the sand, "I'll stay here and mind our things."

The blond shrugged, "Suit yourself," and set off at a run to join Puck and Finn, who were tossing a laughing Eli to each other in the water. Quinn barrelled into the waves and threw herself at Finn, knocking him over and plunging them both under the surface. They came up a minute later, laughing, as Eli climbed onto Puck's shoulders and demanded he be tipped off.

Rachel hugged her knees to her chest as she watched the foursome, aware that not once did any of them glance her way; clearly they were not missing her company. She huffed and rummaged through a bag for her paperback, oblivious to the two identical sets of hazel eyes turning and staring wistfully in her direction.

"Doesn't Rachel wanna play?" Eli asked, as Puck picked him up, out of the water. His little arms came up to encircle Puck's neck as he looked up at his father.

"Later buddy," he promised. 'I'll get Rachel to play."

He nodded at this, trusting that Puck would keep his word and tugged on Puck's short brown hair, begging once more to be tipped off his broad shoulders. Puck pushed up from his elbows, gently tossing the four year old into the water. When Eli broke the surface and paddled happily around, Puck made sure he had one hand fisted in his swimming shirt, ensuring his little body stayed afloat and turned his eyes back to the shore.

Quinn materialized next to him a minute later, combing her fingers through her wet locks. She followed his gaze and grinned slyly. "Go on." She said staring up at him as Puck looked at her questioningly.

"What?"

She pushed on his shoulder, "Go. Talk to her. See if you two can hold an actual conversation without you baiting her, and her screaming at you, calling you a cretin."

"And why would we want to do that?" He murmured, his eyes involuntarily sliding back to Rachel.

Quinn's tone was dripping with amusement. "I dunno, maybe because you think she's _gorgeous_ and this little dance you two are doing around each other might actually mean something?"

He scoffed, glancing over her shoulder to see Finn a fair way off, trying to body surf in the mostly calm surf.

"Don't worry about Finn," Quinn told him, "Eli and I will keep him occupied,"

Puck looked at her shrewdly, "You know, for someone who claims to be friends with them, you sure are working overtime to break the two of them up."

Quinn rolled her eyes, "I am their friend, which is why it's my sacred duty to make sure if they do get married, it's for the right reasons. I'm not convinced they are."

His eyes darted to Eli and back to Quinn, "Tell me why _you_ don't think they should be together." He had his theories; it would be fucking sweet if Quinn saw things just like he did.

She waved her hand, "Because Rachel is fire, you know? Finn is, well _not ice_, water maybe?" She frowned, "Rachel's sassy, you know that, and underneath that sensible exterior is the girl I met in college. The one who was going to make it on Broadway, sing her heart out on stage every night and bring the audience to tears. She has so much passion and slowly, since Shelby came into her life, she's been losing that part of herself. She's denying herself freedom with her emotions, because she doesn't want to hurt people the way her mother did. She doesn't want to let her heart rule her head and risk her losing sight of what's important."

Quinn blew out a breath, "She doesn't want to let Eli down. He's it for her, you know? Her whole world begins and ends with that boy. It's not exactly healthy, but you can't fault her dedication."

**_No you could not_**, he thought.

"And Finn?"

Quinn's eyes shifted to the man in question, watching him with a small smile as he splashed about in the waves like an overgrown toddler.

"Finn is-" She paused, "simple."

Puck chortled and she glared at him, "Don't be cruel. I just meant that Finn is uncomplicated. He's nice, he's genuine, he's sensitive. He can't ever give Rachel what she needs and I'm afraid that it is taking her too long to figure that out. She needs someone who can both relax her and test her limits. Finn is too easy going and he hates confrontation. I don't want her to hurt him and she would, eventually, without meaning too."

There was a wistfulness in Quinn's expression that didn't escape Puck's notice but he chose to ignore it. He wasn't one to butt into other people's love lives - except for Rachel's of course, and these were special circumstances – besides, if he was successful in his plan and Rachel and Finn broke up, that would leave Finn wide open for the blonde to console. Win, win in Puck's book.

"I don't care so much about their relationship," Puck said, ignoring how easily the lie fell from his lips. "What I care about is my son, and like I said last night, I think it's in his best interests if Rachel lightens up a bit."

"And that's where you come in." Quinn remembered with a grin and he nodded.

"Puck," her smile fell and her tone became serious, "I'll help you, as much as I can, but you can't hurt her, ok? Rachel's sensitive, she's not as tough as she likes to portray. I can't have you messing with her head."

"Relax Fabray," he touched her arm reassuringly, "I'm not going to hurt her. What's best for her is best for my kid. I want her happy."

She nodded and pushed him again. "Go," she ordered, "and play nice."

Puck waited until she had a firm grip on Eli before he waded into shore.

Rachel, to his amusement, was enthralled in another of her lady porn books. His aviators were perched on the edge of her nose as she lay, stretched out on her stomach on top of a blue and white striped beach towel.

He couldn't resist standing over her and shaking his head like a dog, droplets of water from his body and board shorts raining over her and making her squeal.

"Noah!" she screeched pushing at his muscular calves, the only part of him she could reach. "Stop it, you're getting me wet."

He plopped onto the sand beside her and leant forward with a suggestive leer, "Glad you finally admitted it babe, I knew you couldn't resist my boyish charm." She snorted, but couldn't help the small smile that stretched across her face.

"Where's Eli?" She asked rolling over and sitting up, searching for her brother amongst the hundreds of figures in her line of sight.

"Over there," Puck pointed and she looked to where he was gesturing and saw Quinn and Finn swinging Eli between them in the shallow water.

"He looks happy." She murmured, unaware that she had voiced that thought out loud.

"He is happy." Puck answered, lying back on his forearms. "Thanks to you. I've never met a more well-adjusted kid."

"And exactly how many children his age do you know?" She queried, but her dig was without malice. She flashed him a smile of thanks for his easy praise of her parenting skills.

"Not many," he conceded, "But it's not hard to tell, he's a good kid."

"He is," she agreed and they both watched as he ran circles around Finn, throwing bits of seaweed at the lumbering giant at Quinn's encouragement.

"So, should we head back to Lima tomorrow?" He ventured, turning his hazel gaze on her.

"Tomorrow?" she hedged, "There's no pressing urgency for us to drive back right away is there?" She felt by stealing his truck the night before she had finally marked a long overdue point in the Rachel column of this one upmanship game they seemed to be engaging in. She thought if she could prolong their stay on the island by a few days, before they were forced to endure each other on his territory, she might just mange to regain equal footing.

"Not really, though I didn't exactly get around to telling my clients I was going away." Puck said, "But there's no reason for us to hang around here either. You've got nothing major that can't be dealt with when you get back."

She bristled at his matter of fact tone. Once again she was irritated by his assumption that she could just dump everything and spend part of her summer in Lima without proper forewarning or planning. Contrary to popular opinion, she did have a life.

"There's Finn," Rachel countered, her teeth clenching at his shrug of indifference. "I was so busy towards the end of the school year and then I drove down to Lima last week- we've barely seen each other. I would like to spend some 'quality' time with Finn before I leave." She injected a bit of sultry innuendo into her tone to see how he'd react. She was thankful for the shield his aviators provided her. Her eyes were hidden from him, but his were on full display and they were flashing heatedly at her.

She licked her lips and forced herself to lean back on her palms, adopting a pose of carefree nonchalance as he decided how to respond to her insinuation.

When he spoke, his voice was measured, and was that the suggestion of laughter in his tone?

"I'm sure Finn won't mind." Puck replied dryly, "I doubt he'd be pining away in your absence. In fact, Finn strikes me as the forgetful type. I bet he won't remember you're gone until you call him from the state line and moan about what an insufferable fucking jackass I'm being."

It was probably the truthfulness in his statement that had her reel back as if she had been struck. He had hit the nail on the head, really. Finn _was_ the forgetful type. He wouldn't care she was disappearing for two weeks with a man built like a Greek god. He'd wave them off from the curb and call out that he hoped they had a good time.

She felt hollow at the realization that _of course_ Finn wouldn't be pining away for her. They didn't have that type of relationship. He didn't capture her lips at inopportune times and make her feel as though her skin was on fire with the most innocent of touches.

As Rachel was digesting this, Finn, Quinn and Eli joined them, accidentally kicking wet sand over her as they sat close, engaged in random conversation that she just couldn't seem to follow. It was Puck's low whistle directed at Quinn that caught Rachel's attention. Her friend was grumbling about seaweed and sand, and, as she adjusted her bikini top, she inadvertedly flashed a bit of side boob in Puck's direction, who was looking on appreciatively.

"You've got the goods Fabray," he teased, "I'll give you that. You got a real man taking care of your needs or do you need the Puckster to take care of your business?"

Quinn laughed and threw her towel over his face, dropping to her knees beside Eli and carving out the moat for the sand castle the boy was attempting to build. Rachel huffed, annoyed. The flirtation between Puck and Quinn was grating on her nerves and while she knew Quinn well enough to know the blonde wasn't seriously lavishing any attention on him, Puck's blatant appraisal of her friends body set Rachel on edge.

She wasn't jealous, she told herself, tugging her beach cover up over her head. She felt his gaze on her as she stood and stripped off her shorts, leaving her standing in a barely there red bikini, that she most certainly _did not_ put on with him in mind this morning, in lieu of her regular modest one piece.

Rachel was confident in her body and she knew, while Quinn was conventionally pretty and was slim and fit, her body lacked the definition and toning that years of dance training had given Rachel's.

She contemplated which was her most favourable asset and turned her back on Puck, bending over for the sun block and granting him a lingering view of her ass and the long line of her tanned legs. She thought she heard a quiet groan and smiled, satisfactorily.

"Finn," she bit her lip and forced herself to sound innocent and girlish. "Will you rub sun block on my back? I don't want to burn."

"Sure Rach," Finn patted the spot between his outstretched legs and she sat between his thighs and handed him the lotion, holding her hair out of the way with one fist. The side of body closest to Puck was burning with awareness and she knew that his gaze was locked on her, so she made the most of her performance.

She giggled a little as Finn's palm made contact with her back, "Ohh, it's cold! That tickles." She rolled her eyes behind the protection of her sunglasses, disgusted with the high pitched falseness of her tone.

Finn chuckled and rubbed the lotion over her shoulders, and down her back. She let out a series of small moans as he made large clumsy circles over her skin.

"You're so good with your hands," she complimented breathily, pushing her chest out and tightening her already flat abdominals. "Finn, that feels so good!"

Puck stood abruptly. "I'm going to get a soda," he muttered and without asking if anyone wanted anything, he stalked across the sand, weaving in and around the mass of people towards the nearest vendor.

Finn gave her shoulder a pat and said, "All done," completely oblivious to the show she was putting on.

"Thank you Finn," she said, his voice returning to its normal pitch. He crawled over to assist with the sandcastle and Rachel met Quinn's eyes.

"Bravo," she mouthed with a grin and Rachel ducked her head and blushed.

Suddenly, the heat was too much and she needed some space. Rachel stood, "Are you three ok here? I'm going to have a quick swim before lunch."

Quinn and Finn voiced their consent and she carefully placed Puck's sunglasses on top of the cooler so they wouldn't get trampled on and walked a small ways down the beach to where it was less crowded.

Rachel dove underneath a wave and came up on the other side, slicing through the water with powerful strokes - years of swimming lessons had given her perfect form. She reached a relatively calm piece of water and lay on her back, closing her eyes against the bright sun and floating lazily across the surface.

The warmth against her face and the gentle rocking of the waves relaxed her, but it wasn't too long before her peace and quiet was shattered.

"Well played." A husky voice said, close to her ear.

She yelped and jerked upright, sinking under the water in unexpected fright and coming back up a second later, choking on sea water.

Two strong arms came around her and she felt herself being perched on a muscular thigh as she spluttered and caught her breath. She pushed the tangled mess of her hair out of her vision and glared into the laughing eyes of Noah Puckerman.

"You bully!" she accused pushing at his chest and trying to wriggle out of his grasp. "What were you trying to do? Drown me?"

He rolled his eyes. "Don't be so fucking melodramatic. Why would I want to drown you? You're no good to me dead."

She tried again to break away from the circle of his arms, to no avail. His arms were like fortresses of steel.

"So," he broached again, "was that little display for me?" He tossed his head in the direction of the shore, staring at her intently.

She avoided his probing gaze. "I have no idea what you are talking about," she claimed refusing to look at him. He ruined that by grasping her chin and forcing her to face him.

"You don't huh?" he mused. "Well you failed anyway. You and Finn have about as much sexual chemistry as Donny and Marie."

She screwed up her nose, "That's disgusting," she informed him flatly. "Donny and Marie are siblings." He grinned and she noted idly how white his teeth were against his olive complexion.

"Does Finn rock your world?" Puck's voice dropped and he ran his finger between her shoulder blades, rubbing the patch of skin under the string where her bikini top tied at the back. "Does he make you shiver with those big, talented hands of his?" he mocked.

She flushed angrily, aware that he hadn't been fooled by her act in the slightest.

"Stop it."

"Stop what?" his palm was flat against the small of her back, his thumb drawing deliberate circles over the base of her spine with a finesse that Finn's touch had lacked.

"You know what." She gave him her best "Ms Berry is unamused by your antics' stare that never failed to chastise her students. Unsurprisingly, Puck was anything but contrite.

"You don't think I'm good with my hands?" he asked, feigning hurt and trailing his fingers up her arms while his other arm continued to hold her captive. Rachel felt goose bumps break out on her skin, despite the warmth of the water and Puck's quirked eyebrow told her he wasn't unaware of her body's reaction to his proximity.

"Hmm?" He prompted when she failed to answer. She gasped as his fingers teased the edge of her bikini top, dipping under it to trace the underside of her breast.

"You are being completely inappropriate!" she exclaimed hotly, covering his hand with hers, and pressing their joined digits to her chest in an effort to hold him immobile. She failed to realize straight away that her movement had afforded him a generous grope of her assets.

He smirked and squeezed gently, his thumb brushing against her nipple before she slapped his hand away.

"Let me go." She bit out from between clenched teeth.

"Do you _really_ want me to do that?" he asked sceptically, his hand returning to her back to resume its lazy caress. "Don't pretend you don't get off on our little exchanges. You want me to catch you off guard; you love the nervous expectancy of waiting to see if I'll kiss you. Am I right?"

She shook her head leaning her head back as if she expected him to kiss her right then.

"Liar."

She bit her lip. She was so far out of her depth with this man. He was playing her for a fool and she was helpless against his advances.

His nose brushed against hers and her eyes fluttered shut.

"C'mon Rach, meet me halfway here. You want me to kiss you, don't you?" there was a quiet urgency in his tone that struck a chord with her and her eyes flew open.

He brushed a barely there kiss on her lips and pulled back only a fraction.

"Why don't you kiss me for a change?" he cajoled, his breath hot on her cheek.

His eyes were warm and inviting and against all logic, she found her fingers cupping the nape of his neck and drawing his mouth towards her. Later, she'd blame her behavior on the color of those eyes. Eyes that he had passed down to a boy she'd hardly ever been able to deny anything.

It was Rachel taking the lead this time, caressing his cheek as her lips covered his. It was her tongue doing the stroking, revelling in the taste of him- sugary and grape today, most likely from his soda. She traced the smooth line of his teeth and nipped lightly on his lower lip.

It was his moan that snapped her out of her daze and she pulled back abruptly.

When his head lowered to kiss her back she pushed against him with all the strength she could muster and set herself free. She paddled a few feet away from him, the stone set to her features signalling the moment was over.

"Rachel!" he called after her. "Wait, don't-"

She halted and when he swam the few short strokes to her side and reached for her, she wrenched her arm from his hand.

"I know you don't hold my relationship with Finn in high regard," she said woodenly, "And you may not have much respect for me, but I know you like Finn. He's sitting within shouting distance. How do you think he'd feel if he looked over and saw the two of us-" She broke off.

He didn't know what to say; he was used to fierce, combative Rachel. This Rachel, with the wounded expression and the defeated tone, made him feel like shit.

"Please, just leave me alone. I'll accompany you and Eli back to Lima, but these games have got to stop. You can't just kiss me whenever you feel like it."

"You kissed me," he retorted automatically and then shut his mouth. To his surprise, she didn't berate him for his comment when it was clear he had manipulated her into kissing him.

"I did," she admitted. "And I shouldn't have. I'm not going to deny that I-" again she failed to finish her sentence and Puck found himself wishing she would.

"We can't do this, Noah. Eli is our priority. He's going to be our priority for well over the next decade. We need to be sensible and mature and not ruin what could become a very effective parenting team over a few stolen kisses and hurt feelings. Do you understand?"

He found himself nodding.

Rachel opened her mouth to say something and sighed. Without another word she turned and swam swiftly to shore. She didn't look at him for the rest of the day.


	7. Born to be Wild

_**A/N: Wow, so you guys went nutty with the reviews on that last chapter! The love for this fic has completely exceeded my expectations and I am completely floored by your responses, so thank you! **_

**_A special shout out to Mag721 who was a little late to the WAWSK party but took the time to review every chapter this week - I appreciate it! And to another new twitter pal Jlz_1, who (thankfully) doean't have a TMI filter either, and has provided me with a shit load of giggles this week - yay for another gleek in (or close to) my timezone...have another tim tam!_**

_**Nikki and Suze, I would be lost without you :)**_

* * *

The next morning, when Puck arrived to pick up Rachel and Eli for the return trip back to Lima, it took less than five seconds to determine Rachel was still upset with him. If her snappish demeanour wasn't indication enough that the carefree woman who he caught a glimpse of a few days ago was gone, her attire confirmed it.

She was dressed in one of those white blouses he was beginning to despise; half sleeves, modest, buttoned all the way to the throat. This time she'd paired it with a purple sweater vest and a pair of shapeless linen shorts that stopped just above her cute little kneecaps. Those gleaming white tennis shoes were back and her hair was pulled back into another one of those severe looking buns- her hair pulled so tight, her eyes had a slanted look about them.

Puck thought it was just about the ugliest outfit – and unflattering look – she could have rocked. He thought she might have chosen it on purpose.

Rachel was packed and ready to go, and if the five large suitcases standing neatly by the door were any indication, he thought she was mistakenly thinking they were spending the next three months crossing the Sahara on a camel.

"Did you pack five gallons of water in case the truck breaks down crossing the prairies?" he taunted after they exchanged brief, lukewarm greetings. "How about snow boots and a pair of mittens? It's June, but you never know."

She cast him a withering look. "You may think I'm overly cautious, but it's obvious you've never travelled with a small child before." He noted the tone. Haughty and clipped. Yep, she was back to her stick-in-the-mud ways alright. It seemed all the progress he'd made had been lost within those 5 minutes they'd spent in the water together yesterday.

Despite agreeing to her proposal that they keep their 'relationship' (or whatever label it was you put on two people who were committing to raise a kid together) purely platonic and kiss-free, Puck had no intention of deviating from his plan. He'd give her a day or two, lull her into a full sense of security before he made his next move. Sighing, he started hauling the luggage down to his truck. He had to wonder if two weeks was going to be enough time to effectively execute _**Operation: Lighten up Berry**_. He eyed that bun as she turned and started drawing the blinds, ready for their departure and decided if any one could rock her world, it was him.

Just as he was about to take the last load downstairs, Eli came bounding out of his bedroom with Hank in hot pursuit.

"Puck!" he shouted happily, skidding to a stop in front of his father. "I'm bringing my music, do you see?" He enthusiastically held up a bright red plastic case, full of what Puck assumed were child friendly music CDs. Inwardly, he groaned. He had no clue when it came to what was appropriate music for a four year old, but knowing Rachel, it was sure to be 'educational'. He had a sneaky suspicion that he'd be listening to multiplication songs and "the wheels on the truck go round and round' the entire 10 hour drive, and already he felt his ears beginning to bleed. _**Fuck that**_.

He hid his grimace and held out his hand for a high five that Eli gave enthusiastically. "That's great bud, but I don't have a CD player in my truck. My stereo plays tapes only unfortunately."

He hated that Eli's face fell at his revelation but it wasn't long before Rachel had restored the little boy's good humor. "Fortunately, I have all of Eli's favourites on my iPod. And I happen to have the appropriate connection device so it can be played through your stereo."

Of course she did. And she'd said so with a smug smile that told him she knew exactly what he was thinking. _**Fuck his life.**_

"Cool." He said dully, smiling weakly at his son. "Can't wait to hear what you've got."

He was rewarded with a blinding grin that did funny things to his heart and he thought that maybe, he could do with a refresher on his ABC's.

"Wanna help me with the rest of this stuff?" Puck asked, holding out a lightweight backpack for Eli to carry. The boy turned to Rachel, silently asking permission which she gave with a nod of her head, before grabbing the outstretched backpack and calling out for Hank to follow: "C'mon Hank, let's get this show on the road."

Puck chuckled and led the way, holding the elevator door open until Eli and Hank were safely inside, the boy chattering happily the entire way.

"And Rachel said we're gonna go camping! Are we Puck? In a tent? We've never been campin' before, not ever, and Rachel said you're gonna teach me how to fish! S'that true Puck? Can we?" His eagerness was catching and Puck found his excitement renewed.

"Yep, we sure are. Hank and I love to go camping out by the lake. I have a huge tent. And I'm sure Rachel has packed your fishing rod, but if not, I'll buy you one when we get there. How does that sound?"

"Awesome!" Eli exclaimed dropping the backpack as they made it to the truck. He was staring at the truck in wide-eyed astonishment.

Puck glanced at the dirty green pickup and wondering what the boy found so fascinating. "Your car is way cooler than Finn's!" Eli decided, kicking the tire with the toe of his shoe. "Can I ride in the back?" Puck looked up as he heard the security door slam shut behind Rachel, who was carrying Eli's car seat and another large carry-on bag, in addition to her pocketbook.

"Not right now bud, but I promise I'll let you ride back there when we go camping, ok?" Puck met Rachel halfway down the walkway and liberated the car seat from her, smiling easily at her muttered, "Thank you."

Eli's car seat could fit correctly in only one position, and that was in the passenger seat by the window, which left Rachel sitting in the middle of the bench seat, wedged tightly between the seat and his shoulder, dodging the stick shift every time he put the truck in fourth gear or reverse.

She had to sit with one foot on either side of the stick shift, as otherwise, she got hit painfully in her knees whenever he changed gears; Puck was far too amused by the fact that she tensed every time his hand was within inches of her parted thighs.

After about an hour, when they were cruising comfortably along the expressway, Eli began flapping his arms, asking "There yet?"

After the fifth time Rachel had answered with a negative in as many minutes, Puck deliberately shifted his leg, pressing it against hers. "Don't look so glum." He told her, "We're going to have some fun. Do you know what that is?"

He saw her lips tighten and she shifted her leg as much as she was able to, so that there was a space about as thin as a sheet of paper between them. "Of course I know what fun is." Rachel told him in a voice that suggested she thought he was an imbecile.

"Oh yeah, give me an example. What does Rachel Berry define as 'fun'?" Puck prodded, smirking.

"Sitting, curled up on my couch with a good book," she replied acidly, "Which is what I planned to do with the first two weeks of summer holidays before you insisted on this 'bonding' exercise."

Puck gave her a sidelong look, "What have I told you Rach? Too much reading is your problem."

"And I've told you," she retorted, "That reading is a good thing. I have already started teaching Eli his alphabet. Studies have indicated that early reading skills are a precursor to lifelong success."

"Uh-huh, that's great. Let's read about people having fun rather than going out and doing it ourselves. And what the hell is a precursor, Little Miss Schoolteacher? The word you say before you curse? That would have been the_ the_ before the hell, am I right? Do I get a gold star?"

Rachel attempted to ignore him, riffling through her massive bag for something entertaining for Eli to play with. But Puck didn't have any intention of being ignored. He had her trapped in his truck and he intended to take advantage of the time, using it to ruffle her feathers. It was only too easy.

"And what's with this life long success shit? You haven't already planned out Eli's future for him have you?"

"Of course I haven't. I am merely ensuring I provide appropriate learning opportunities for him. It's never too early to initiate ones education."

"You ARE planning his life out for him," Puck accused darkly. 'What have you decided? Doctor?"

"Are you insinuating there's something wrong with your son wanting to become a doctor?" she demanded. "It's a very admirable ambition, wanting to help people."

"Terrible hours," Puck decided. "Inside work, not very manly."

"I'm sure I don't even want to know what you think an acceptable 'manly' vocation is." Rachel told him, fishing out a story book from that Mary Poppins-like bag of hers. She began to read Eli a truly boring story about a boy's trip to the circus, following that one up with another one about a pony. Puck noticed she'd stopped trying to escape the pressure of his leg.

Puck kept silent only because Eli was bursting with questions throughout the duration of the story. "Were there lions Rach? Did they go Roarrrrr! What's a trapeze? What was the pony's name?"

When she was finished and Eli was satisfied with the answers to his questions, Puck continued to badger her with questions of his own. "See? Like I said - stories about _other_ people having fun. Don't you think Eli would have preferred a trip to a real circus? A real pony?"

"In case it failed to escape your notice Noah, I don't think Lima boasts a circus." She said icily.

"Pony?" Eli asked hopefully.

"No pony, pumpkin," Rachel let the boy down gently. She arched her eyebrow at Puck,"And your idea of fun would be what?"

_**You underneath me, on a blanket sprawled out over the ground. The red dress would be a nice touch**_. The thought came to him without warning.

"Being spontaneous," he answered instead.

She threw his earlier words back at him, "Give me an example," she drawled derisively.

His jaw twitched. She was so difficult. He gestured to their left, "Do you see that dirt road up ahead? Don't you wonder where it goes?"

"No." Came her flat response.

"Geez. For a woman who reads too damn much, you sure do have a limited imagination. Hey Eli, you want to see where that road over there goes? Have some fun?"

Eli cheered, "Fun!"

"I am strongly against this." Rachel told him seriously, like it wasn't perfectly obvious.

"Well may I remind you, you're not the one calling the shots here?" Puck stomped on the brake and turned the wheel so fast, his truck skidded around in a half circle and they were bouncing down a dirt and gravel road in the blink of an eye.

He felt her fingers dig into his arm and her thigh was pressed tighter against him.

'You're going too fast!" she shouted to be heard against the rattling of the vehicle, Hank's barking and Eli's excited whooping.

"Faster Puck! Go faster!" Eli screamed, thrilled.

Puck obliged.

'Stop it!" Rachel bit out. "We're going the wrong way. We'll never get to Lima if you insist on making these juvenile detours."

"So?" he yelled back. "The point of this trip is to let Eli and I get to know each other. If it takes us days to get home, who gives a shit?"

"You're driving insanely! What if another car came along?"

He snorted. "It's a wide road and mostly flat. We'll see another car from a mile away."

The truck soared over a small rise and took air. They landed hard and Rachel's head bumped his shoulder and the first strands escaped the confines of her bun.

"YEAH!" Eli shouted in encouragement while Hank howled.

Spotting a larger rise, Puck accelerated and drove purposely for it.

They took to the air again and she screamed.

Eli and Puck laughed and after a moment, an amazing thing happened - Rachel laughed too.

He glanced appreciatively at her. "See, fun right?"

"I'm not having fun," she insisted.

"You're laughing," he pointed out.

"I'm not happy, it's just nerves."

As they came around a deep bend in the road, they surprised a group of deer that had been meandering over the roadside. The truck came to an abrupt stop and they watched awestruck as the graceful animals bounded away.

Eli clapped and crowed, "Bambi!"

Puck watched Rachel's face and saw a tear slip down her cheek. He thought she might have been touched by the beauty of the moment.

He searched his brain for the appropriate thing to say and settled on: 'See, there's always a reward when you follow your heart." It was cheesy and Hallmark worthy, but Puck thought it was applicable.

"No, there's not," she said angrily, swiping away tears that were flowing in earnest now. "There's always _heartbreak_ when you follow your heart. Look at Shelby, she chased impulse after impulse and she's dead."

Puck felt his stomach drop; there was more to this story than he knew. She said Shelby had done some wild things in her time and Puck wondered exactly what those things were. Quinn had alluded to the fact that Shelby's behavior had been the basis for Rachel modifying her own, and he wanted to know what had been so bad it had made her afraid to take even the smallest of risks.

"You're right, she is. But you need to learn that it's safe to let loose every now and then - for Eli's sake. There's so many legitimately fucked up things in this world, you don't want teach him to be afraid of _everything_."

"You need to learn that you can't tell me what I need to learn!" Rachel retorted hotly.

He cocked his eyebrow and she saw the absurdity of her statement. He was gratified when she her anger abated and she dissolved into unexpected giggles.

He chuckled along with her and Eli smiled at them, confused but happy.

Rachel took a deep breath and glanced thoughtfully at her brother. "Ok," she took a deep breath and turned back to Puck. "I'm ready to try it."

"Really? Letting loose?"

She nodded and he grinned – until she held out her hand.

He looked at her palm, "What?"

"I want to drive."

'Drive," he repeated, "my truck?" He shook his head, "Don't think so princess."

"Come on Noah! You were the one that said I needed to let go of my inhibitions. According to you, this four wheel driving activity is 'fun' so I want to try it."

"Yeah I said that, but I didn't think that meant risking my baby," he shuddered with fake trepidation, secretly pleased that the woman in the red dress had been hiding close to the surface as he had guessed.

"Well then, you should have been more specific when attempting to manipulate me." Rachel smiled, her eyes shining. "Now get out."

"Huh?"

"Get out," she repeated, "And take Eli with you. I said I'd try letting loose but I'm not going to risking _my_ baby's safety in the process."

He blinked, struck once more by the absolute love she had for the child.

"Sure." He slid out of the truck and rounded the hood to the passenger side, where he unbuckled and lifted Eli out of his car seat.

A moment later, Puck, Eli and Hank stood in a cloud of dust as Rachel took off. As she puttered off into the distance, she had hit the gas and Puck winced as she rode the clutch.

"Way to go Rach," Puck said to himself.

A small hand crept into his. "Where's she going?"

Puck smiled down at him reassuringly. "Rachel's not going far, she'll be back soon. She's just trying to let out her inner devil."

Eli screwed up his face, "Rachel's bad?"

"No, your sister's not bad. She just needs to relax. You know what that means bud?"

The little boy thought hard. "hmm, happy?" He guessed.

Puck squeezed his hand. "Very good. We need to make sure Rachel relaxes and letting out her inner devil is going to do that and yeah, make her happy."

Eli nodded approvingly and father and son grinned at each other. His kid was smart. Puck was glad they were on the same page.

* * *

Rachel pulled away from them slowly, but when she was a safe distance away she pressed her foot a little harder on the accelerator. The truck jerked forward and she felt the first spurts of fear and excitement in her stomach. She dared to go faster. The road seemed straight and uncomplicated, she went faster still. She rose over another bump in the road and crashed back down, letting out a small squeal and slowed down long enough to wind down her window. She could feel strands of hair being tugged out of her tight bun and she began to unwind, laughing at the sensation of power that coursed through her.

"I am impulsive and daring!" she yelled out of her open window.

As soon as the words left her mouth she checked the rear view mirror to see if anyone could have possibly heard her, completely embarrassed but elated at the same time.

She felt alive. The wind was playing over her face and the mid morning sun was warm on her skin. Rachel thought that there might be something to this letting loose thing that Puck advocated so insistently.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, a stray deer came hurtling out of the trees lining the road, startling her. She stomped on the brake and turned the wheel sharply, expecting to hear the dull thump of the animal's body as it made contact with the fender. She needn't have worried. The doe veered and disappeared back into the thicket as the back tires of the vehicle locked onto the loose gravel and the bed of the truck slid. With her heart hammering in her chest and her knuckles whitened on the steering wheel, she braked harder. The truck heaved, spun one hundred and eighty degrees and stalled - the hood facing in the direction she had come.

Rachel thought she heard the sound of a baby crying and she shut her eyes tightly as the memory assaulted her. Behind her closed lids, she saw the blinding headlights of an approaching vehicle, the shock on Shelby's face as the sound of crunching metal reached her ears and blood. So much blood.

"NOOOOOOOO!"

She took a series of sharp breaths and slowly, came back to herself. Rachel slumped forward and rested her forehead on the steering wheel and then shakily got out of the truck, leaning against the cool metal door.

It was all too much.

She wasn't rash, she wasn't reckless; _she wasn't her mother_.

Shelby had lived a life ruled by emotion. A slave to her illness that could plunge her into black holes of despair, she was always on the look out for her next 'fix', seeking out the next person or activity that would keep the overwhelming darkness at bay. So intent on finding that relief, she had little regard for the people around her and the effect her actions would have on them.

And when there was nobody to help her or nothing within her reach that offered the emotional high she was desperately searching for, Shelby turned to hard liquor in an effort to dull the desolation. She'd been under the influence that night when Rachel had called and asked her for a ride to her fathers' house for Sunday dinner.

Hampered by a head cold, her night blindness and several sleepless nights spent tending to a cranky three year old who was overcoming a cold of his own, Rachel had missed the signs of Shelby's intoxication. They had been less than 5 miles from her apartment when Shelby had steered the vehicle into oncoming traffic and caused an accident that had killed her instantly, yet left Eli and Rachel miraculously unharmed, without so much as a scratch.

She'd done a lot of research over the years and had been horrified to learn that genetics played a strong part in the development of Shelby's disorder and Rachel, through sheer will power alone, was determined to never end up like that.

So she lived a quiet life, one that was predictable and safe. She had Eli, she was happy - for the most part. Well, she was content anyway, and it wasn't until Puck had crashed into her life a few days before, turning her whole world upside down, did she question the plan she had carefully crafted for the rest of her life. 'Spontaneity and adventure', he was preaching.

She shook her head, staring unseeingly at the dirt and gravel underneath her feet.

It was her third full day of being out of control and she hated it.

It hadn't even been the allure of adventure that had her gunning the engine anyway. It was the promise of relief.

What she had needed, when she accepted Puck's challenge, was a break from the pressure of his leg against hers. She had been acutely aware of the heated steel of his thigh muscles beneath faded denim, and the blatant strength that radiated from him. It was oddly comforting, yet her awareness of the man's raw sensuality ignited a hunger in her unlike anything she'd ever felt before.

A hunger to tangle lips, touch skin and unfasten buttons; to stroke and lick, kiss and caress. It made her blush just to think about it. So she'd sought a temporary escape from the temptation he presented and in the process, had been confronted by the very reason she determinedly reigned in her emotions and resisted impulse in the first place.

She was not an adventurer or a speed demon. She didn't want to be the kind of woman who would commit herself to one man yet exchange kisses with another. She wasn't driven by impulse and she knew she never would be, despite Puck's underhanded attempts to modify her behavior (she wasn't blind to what he was doing). She _wanted_ to be mature and responsible; someone to be looked up to and respected.

But most of all, she wanted to be a good mother. She had a little boy counting on her to be the best person she could be and she wasn't about to jeopardize that by stealing trucks and wearing provocative red dresses, unsuitable for the occasion, just to garner a reaction.

From now on, she wouldn't pretend to be something she wasn't.

With this resolve, Rachel climbed back into the truck and used the rear view mirror to fix her hair, combing the strands back into place with shaky fingers. She drove back extra slowly and finally saw Puck and Eli in the distance. It was obvious that they were having a blast together, chasing Hank who seemed to have something caught between his teeth.

It was a joyous sight, the man and the boy laughing as they attempted to retrieve whatever the dog had managed to snag, and she might have actually let herself derive some vicarious pleasure from this happy scene had Hank not trotted past the truck at that very moment, affording her a very good view of what he had clenched happily in his big, slobbery mouth.

It was the storybook about the circus.

She tensed.

She had given Puck's idea of fun a chance - despite its almost life threatening consequences, and in return he was showing nothing but contempt for her own values and ideas. She had the irrational urge to burst into tears.

"Hey!" Puck called to her as she slid out of the driver's side, as if he and his dog weren't at that very moment mocking her, "How was your 'wild adventure'?"

Her throat closed up and she swallowed thickly, "I had an accident, I was almost killed," she proclaimed hoarsely.

He was at her side in an instant, "Are you hurt?" he demanded, his fingers tightening on her shoulders as he looked her over for any sign of injury. Rachel noticed he didn't spare his truck a glance.

There was that tingle again. The sense of awareness she got whenever he touched her.

"No I'm not hurt," she told him stepping away from his body, she wanted to add:_ no thanks to you._

Puck made a sweeping gesture with his hand, "What kind of accident could you possibly have had out here?" His facial expression had changed from touching concern to one of insulting scepticism.

"I almost hit a deer," she answered, hugging herself lightly, "I lost control of the back of the truck and spun around."

He regarded her thoughtfully and waited a beat. "Are you getting to the nearly killed part soon?"

"That _was_ the nearly killed part!"

A slow smile spread over his face, "Scared ya, huh?"

She felt the sting of tears prickle her eyes and she took a deep breath. He was looking at her far too closely and she would not allow him to see the things she didn't want to show him – like her vulnerability.

But unfortunately he had recognized the lingering fear in her eyes and his smile dropped. She backed away hastily, suspecting he was going to do something awful - like dare to put his arms around her. Her gaze came to rest on his broad chest. If she allowed herself to lay her head in the crook of his shoulder, she knew she would fail to hold onto her composure.

"It did not scare me," she said, though her denial was weaker than what she had aimed for and Puck's frown had her retreating further still. "It made me realize how utterly juvenile it was for me to be tearing down a dirt track like I was Queen of the off-trail terrain. What if I had flipped over? What if Eli had been in the truck with me?"

He shoved his hands in his pockets. She had been scared. He'd pushed her too hard, given her too much freedom and she hadn't know what to do with it.

"That's a few too many 'what ifs' Rach. You didn't flip over, Eli wasn't in the truck with you." His voice was gentle and she bristled.

"You have no idea Noah Puckerman," She stated through tight lips, "You're dismissing my very real concerns and allowing your dog to destroy my property at the same time."

They both glanced at Hank who was sitting on his hunches beside Eli, looking at the two adults curiously.

"Is this really about the truck spinning a little?" He wanted to know seriously, no trace of teasing in his tone, "You've come back with every hair in place and your armour on. I thought you were going to chill out a bit."

"I tried." She said.

"And failed at it, obviously." He returned sarcastically.

She refused to say any more on the matter, not wanting to reveal the real reason she had been rattled by her drive and the memories it had brought forth. "I want my book back from that dog. That's no way to demonstrate to a child how to treat books." She told him, effectively changing the subject.

Puck looked at Eli and Hank. "We've been trying to get it back, but it seems like Hank has never had so much fun in his life." Eli grinned and Puck smiled back.

Rachel's eyebrow furrowed and she stalked towards the unruly hound. She stood a few feet away and pointed her finger at him. "Hank, come here. Drop! Drop the book." She commanded.

The dog hesitated, glancing between Rachel and his master, undecided. Finally he slinked towards her, with his tail between his legs.

"That's a good boy," Rachel crooned but as she lunged to swipe her precious book from his mouth, Hank took a side step, tail wagging now as he darted away.

Rachel found herself chasing after him for a good few minutes before Eli's giggles and Puck's loud chuckles stopped her in her tracks. She smoothed down her sweater vest and spun around, her tennis shoes now smudged with dirt and grass stains.

She took Eli's hand and led him back to the truck. As she passed Puck she lowered her voice and said, in a very tight, controlled manner, "You get that book back right now. That's enough, we're going."

Puck whistled sharply and when Hank came to sit in front of him he gave the dog a look of apology. "Sorry old boy," he said quietly, so Rachel wouldn't hear. "Playtime's over." Hank whined and dropped the book. Puck stooped to pick it up by one corner and wiped the drool from the thick cardboard cover with a corner of his shirt.

When he turned back towards his truck he saw Rachel buckling the little boy into his car seat. He was about to call out that Hank hadn't even left teeth marks, when what he saw had the words dying on his lips.

Rachel had paused and looked down at the boy, running a gentle hand over his dark brown hair. Puck was close enough that he heard her say quietly. "I love you pumpkin, you know that don't you?" His gaze zeroed in on his son who was nodding his head solemnly and stretching out his little hand towards his sister. Rachel kissed his palm and held it against her cheek for a moment. "You love me?" she asked with a small smile.

Eli nodded again. "Love you." he returned and Rachel bent down to kiss his nose.

When she closed the door and turned towards Puck, realizing he'd been watching the exchange, she steeled her expression. "Let's go. No more detours."

He trailed behind her and hoisted Hank up into the cab to sit in front of Eli, standing back so she could pull herself into the truck and slide past the steering wheel. He got in after her, his mind reeling with unanswered questions. The woman was a complete contradiction. Hot and cold; soft yet hard. He couldn't work her out.

He handed her the book and she took it gingerly, eyeing the drool on the back he hadn't wiped off. "There's not a tooth mark on it," Puck informed her, "Hank's gentle with his mouth."

She sniffed, "It's still an unforgivable way to treat books. That's not a lesson I want Eli learning."

"That's ok," Puck allowed as he started the engine, "There's heaps more stuff I want to teach him."

"Write name!" Eli piped up and Rachel immediately turned her attention on him with a genuine delighted smile.

"You wrote your name?" It seemed like all those hours spent playing with the alphabet blocks on the floor were paying off. She was a little disappointed that the moment had happened with Puck and not her, but she supposed she'd had a lot more important firsts with Eli and she couldn't begrudge the new father his own.

Then it occurred to her she hadn't packed the alphabet blocks.

"How did you write your name?" She asked suspiciously.

"With pee-pee!" Eli chortled and Rachel turned narrowed eyes on Puck who was staring straight ahead, his attention fixed on the road - though a proud smirk graced his full lips.

"You taught him to write his name with urine Noah? That's one of the other all-important lessons you have to share with him?" She asked through lips so tight they barely moved.

Puck shrugged, determinedly not looking at her. He would not let her ruin the moment he'd shared with his son.

"Handy when it snows." He remarked flippantly.

Her mouth opened then snapped shut.

"I think we need to get back to Lima as soon as possible." Rachel announced stiltedly.

"No kidding," he muttered, "You probably need to polish your tennis shoes."

He felt her angry stare and her hot breath against his cheek. She wiggled closer to Eli's car seat and moved her leg so it was in the path of the stick shift and was sure to get hit the next time he changed gears. But for the time being, they were afforded precious inches of space.

They pulled back onto the highway stewing in simmering silence.

"E-L-I" the boy sung merrily, oblivious to the dark mood inside the truck. "Write it in pee!"

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_**A/N 2: Crap! almost forgot the most important shout out! To ChamberlinofMusic who had me rethinking a few key plot points... I think your input will make ithis fic 10x better, so thanks! P.S Got anything else for me? :P**__**  
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	8. Gallivanting? Seriously?

_**A/N: Apologies for the delay in updating - don't you hate it when RL intrudes on your fanfic time? I didn't get around to responding to most of you but thank you for your reviews! I love that you're in love with Daddy!Puck and Eli and that you understand where Rachel is coming from...**_

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Puck snuck a quick look at the woman sitting beside him. Her spine was stiff and her lips were pursed as she went over the children's story book in her hands with a fine toothed comb, as she had already done several times over in the last few hours, for some hint of damage by Hank. So she could sue him, Puck was certain.

He sighed inaudibly. With those big brown eyes sparkling with excitement, she had convinced him that she was ready for a little adventure, so he'd willingly handed over the keys to his truck. But his suspicion from earlier had proven correct; he had given her too much too soon and now Rachel was more determined than ever to not give his 'live life to the fullest' motto a try.

The drive seemed torturously slow and they were all thankful for the break they took halfway to Lima, where they stopped for lunch and purchased several sandwiches and a couple of bags of potato chips from a small gourmet deli. By silent agreement they headed across the road to a local park to eat and stretch their legs, allowing Hank the opportunity to run around.

Puck tried to engage Rachel in conversation as they watched Eli and Hank tumble around on the grass together but she kept her answers short and clipped. Any attempt he made to make her laugh was met with a stilted silence and sometimes, a long suffering sigh, as if it was a burden to be talking to him. Eventually, he gave up trying and joined Eli and Hank in their game of tag. Barely 15 minutes later they were back in the truck at her insistence, anxious to get to their destination.

Somewhere outside of Nowheres-ville, Pennsylvania, when the two adults had listened to Eli sing along to the Wiggles for two continuous hours, Rachel turned off the music and coaxed the little boy into having an afternoon nap. She stretched her legs out in front of her and turned her head to consider his profile. "Are you tired Noah?" she asked quietly, so as not to disturb Eli or Hank, both of whom were fast asleep. "Would you like me to drive for a while?"

He wasn't tired but since it was the first conversation she'd initiated in over 4 hours, he gladly accepted the offer. He pulled into the next rest stop and they switched positions. Rachel took great care in adjusting the mirrors before she took off while Puck squirmed, vainly trying to find a comfortable position. She spared him a glance as she carefully pulled out of the parking space, her eyebrow quirking in askance.

"I'm squashed," he complained, hunching his shoulders to minimise the bulk of his frame between Rachel and the car seat. She smiled at his pout and shifted into second gear.

"Hey!" he exclaimed in alarm as her small hand guided the stick shift between his legs and precariously close to his junk.

"What's the matter?" she queried innocently, as she shifted away and in to third. Her smile turned into a smirk and his eyes narrowed – she knew exactly what she was doing and he realized, with some dismay, that the game he had instigated earlier wasn't so fun when you weren't the driver. Puck slung his arm over the back of her head rest and angled his body towards hers, sitting as far back into the seat as he could manage. She'd driven barely 2 miles when he started whining about being bored and asked her how much longer they had to go. His mannerisms were so similar to those that Eli had been exhibiting throughout the duration of the trip that she couldn't muster the energy to be irritated by him any longer.

"A while yet," she told him needlessly, since he was perfectly capable of reading the mile markers. "Why don't you try to have a nap as well?"

"Nah," he dismissed immediately, "then I'd miss out on all the awesome scenery."

Rachel's concentration was on the road, so she failed to notice his eyes were on her face as he made that statement and not out the window as she would have assumed.

She hummed some random tune as she drove, and Puck found his eyelids growing heavy as he let himself unwind. It wasn't long before his head lolled onto Rachel's shoulder and he was exhaling heavily into her ear, the play of his breath tickling the delicate skin of her neck.

She was careful not to move and wake him, cruising comfortably along the straight stretch of highway. He was much easier to deal with when he was like this – unconscious. Her lips lifted at the corners and she flexed her fingers on the steering wheel, savouring the comfortable silence and the feeling of contentment that was coursing through her body.

This was nice, she thought. It was strange how quickly she'd got used to the synchronized breathing of the three of them – Eli, Puck and Hank in the cab of the truck. Puck was solid and warm beside her and Rachel thought that for once, everything was as it should be; strangely, her soul was more at ease at that moment than it had been in a long while.

She tried not to question it and studiously ignored the nagging voice that was telling her to stay on guard, warning her that this man was out to upset the balance and order in her life that she had painstakingly created and placed so much importance on. Rachel wondered if it was so bad, giving up some of her hard won control and falling victim to the allure of Puck's 'devil may care' attitude. She was tired of constantly having her back up; her jaw ached from holding her features so stiff and she felt like she hadn't laughed in weeks.

"Puppy wanna play," Eli murmured in his sleep and Rachel turned her head to check on him, her lips grazing Puck's forehead as she did so. He stirred and she froze. A second later he let out a loud snore and his whole body shifted so that he was leaning against the plastic of Eli's car seat. She expelled a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding and returned her eyes to the road.

Unfortunately, Rachel's relaxed attitude abruptly departed when they stopped to refuel a while later and a now wide awake Eli proceeded to demonstrate his newfound writing skills against the brick wall of the gas station. Rachel flushed and glared at Puck, while apologizing profusely to a couple of elderly ladies who were tut-tutting at the little boys antics.

The fact that Puck told her to 'Chill the fuck out' didn't help their strained, unspoken truce and the frigid animosity soon returned. Puck thought the day would never end and was relieved to finally drop them off at the Desert Oasis motel at nightfall, accepting without argument Rachel's decision that she and Eli would order take-out and have an early night. He was happy to put some distance between them and told her he would see them tomorrow.

Puck spent the next couple of hours wandering around his house, watching SportsCenter and returning calls from clients wanting to know why the garage had been closed for the last few days.

After he'd eaten every slice of the large pepperoni pizza he'd ordered for dinner, he stood by the kitchen counter idly tossing a football in the air and catching it, his thoughts fixed on his son and the mission he had set himself to rescue the kid from a life of scheduled predictability at the hands of the uptight brunette.

He thought his plan was flawless and for a while he seemed to be making progress, but then he had to go and fuck things up at the beach and it had all been downhill since. He needed backup and Puck knew just the person to call.

He pulled out his cell phone and scrolled through the contacts until he found the number he was looking for.

"Hello?"

"Quinn, it's Puck."

There was a moments silence followed by a short laugh. "Please tell me Rachel and Eli have been safely checked into the motel and you didn't murder her along the way and dump her body somewhere off Interstate 80."

She sighed when he muttered an "I wish."

"Tell me what happened," Quinn invited, wry amusement apparent in her tone.

Puck launched into a detailed exploit of the trip, explaining Rachel's joyride, her near accident and the silent treatment he'd been subjected to for the rest of the drive.

When he finished, Quinn spoke, "When Rachel came back, after she took your truck, how was she?" all of her earlier ease had gone and she sounded tense and slightly anxious.

Puck thought for a moment, "Melodramatic and bitchy." He decided. "She was droning on and on about what might have happened if Eli had been with her, insisting that she could have been killed, blah-fucking-blah. I think she was just upset that I talked her into having fun"

"You're an idiot." Quinn said flatly. "I have to go and call Rachel. She's probably a mess-" She cut herself off and Puck made a sound of frustration, rubbing his neck with his fingers.

"Why would she be a mess, Quinn? What the hell is going on here?" He growled into the phone. He always felt as if he was missing the big picture and Quinn's obvious concern validated the gnawing in his gut that was telling him something else was working against him, besides Rachel's need to be in control of every situation.

When his question was met with silence, Puck swore. "Damn it Fabray. I feel like I'm taking one step forward, two steps back with her. You gotta clue me in. How are we supposed to come to an agreement about Eli and learn not to kill one another if I don't know what I'm doing to trigger her little freak outs?"

"I want to help Puck," Quinn told him regretfully, "but it's just not my place to tell you."

Puck groaned. "You're killing me woman. You have to give me _something_."

Quinn sighed again, the sound echoing heavily down the line. "Promise me you're not going to push her. I understand why you're trying to loosen her up, but as I said to you yesterday, Rachel's sensitive. I'm afraid you're going to hurt her without even realizing you're doing it."

He groaned, "Which goes back to the fact you have to tell me what's going on with her. Give it up, why is Berry being such a bitch?"

"Don't call her that!" Quinn retorted, annoyed. "I swear I'll hang up right now. Good luck navigating this mess without me."

"Ok, ok. Shit." Puck groused, flopping onto a stool at his kitchen counter. "Help me out here._ Please_."

It was the please that did it really, Quinn thought. There was a pleading quality to it that was so unlike the self-assured arrogance he usually portrayed that she couldn't help but divulge the information she was sure Rachel would not want him to possess.

"It's because of Shelby."

"Shelby?"

"Yes, you know she died in a car accident right?"

At her words, Puck swore. Rachel had told him that during their very first meeting - no wonder she had been frightened by temporarily losing control of the truck.

"I'd forgotten." He replied dully.

"Rachel and Eli were in the car with her at the time."

That part he hadn't known.

Puck's hand tightened on his cell phone and he felt his blood run cold. It had only been one short week since he'd found out about them, yet he was already finding it difficult remembering what life had been like without the gorgeous brunette and the cherubic-faced little boy commanding his attention. To think that he could have lost them, Rachel and his son, before he'd even known they existed made him sick to his stomach.

"Miraculously, Rachel and Eli weren't injured but understandably it has affected them both. Eli still has nightmares about that night and Rachel, well she hasn't been the same since."

Puck cleared his throat, "How did the accident happen? Who was at fault?" He suspected, but he needed to hear it for himself.

Quinn hesitated, "Shelby. She was drunk and swerved into oncoming traffic."

Puck closed his eyes, sparing a moment to remember the woman he'd once loved.

"She was drunk?" He repeated through clenched teeth, trying to black out the mental image of Eli strapped into his car seat amongst a mass of twisted metal. Any affection or empathy he may have felt towards Shelby and her untimely death evaporated in the knowledge that she was so careless with their son's safety. He wanted to hit something.

"Yes. It wasn't an uncommon occurrence. She was on medication for her condition and when she mixed her pills with liquor she tended to do some pretty stupid things."

So he'd heard.

"And Rachel willingly got in the car, took MY son with her and let Shelby drive when she was fucking hammered?" His anger was easily misdirected, seeing that he had no idea what to do with the terror he felt from this revelation.

"It's not her fault Puck." Quinn said firmly, "Shelby was very good at hiding her condition, as _you_ should be able to substantiate. You and Shelby were lovers for months yet you had no idea she was a complete basket case."

_**Ouch. **_

"Don't you dare place any of the blame on Rachel," she continued, "You know she loves Eli more than anything in this world and she would never consciously place him in danger."

She was right, Rachel had said as much that morning when she had ordered him to take Eli and get out of the truck. _"I'm not risking my baby."_ She had said. He was out of line.

"Knowing Rachel, she probably blames herself anyway." Quinn added.

"Shelby really did a number of her, huh?" Puck said quietly, after the line had been silent for over a minute.

Quinn blew out a breath, "Yeah she did. I was wrong Puck. I encouraged you with your plan to loosen her up, thinking it would help her see that Finn isn't right for her and that she needs to find someone who can show her how to have fun and relinquish the need to have every hour of her day structured. But if she's not ready-"

"Rachel is ready," Puck interrupted. "I'm not saying it's gonna be a walk in the park and I know she'll fight me on it every step of the fucking way, but she needs this. It can't be good for her to keep everything bottled up and her plan to marry Finn? Epic mistake. Trust me Quinn, I got this."

"Puck…"

"Don't worry Q, you take care of the big guy, I got this." He said it confidently, trying to assuage the blondes concern for her friend.

Quinn closed her eyes and made her decision.

"Please be careful." She requested. "If I find out you've upset her - well, anymore than you usually do, I'll scar that handsome face of yours."

Puck chuckled. "I'll be good," he promised.

Quinn laughed, "I doubt that, but_ try_ at least. I'm going to call Rachel now and talk her out of whatever pissy mood you've managed to put her in today."

Puck grinned into the phone, "Thanks. It'll help if you tell her you think I'm a sex god. I've noticed she'd more responsive to me when she thinks there might be something going on between us."

"In your dreams Puckerman." He frowned at her response.

"Hey!" Puck protested, offended. "I'll have you know, there are gazillions of chicks out there that would kill to take a ride of the Puckerman Express. You don't know what you're missing out on."

Quinn laughed again, "Well I'll try to get over the disappointment of never finding out. Remember Puck, play nice. I'll talk to you soon."

"Thanks Q, later." Puck snapped his cell phone shut and stared ahead thoughtfully.

He was starting to get it now, why Rachel was so determined to compartmentalize her emotions and maintain some semblance of control over every situation. He couldn't blame her, but he sure as hell wasn't going to indulge her meticulous ways. He was convinced he knew better, was confident in his reasoning and sure that his plan was made of win.

It just needed a little fine tuning that's all. He needed to define his mission.

He turned on the radio and scrummaged through the junk drawer until he found a legal pad of yellow paper and a half chewed pencil.

Sitting at the kitchen table he scowled at the blank paper until he wrote across the top, in his nearly illegible scrawl: What a Woman Should Know (According to Puck).

The first one was easy. _A woman should never pick stainless steel appliances over nights of endless lovin'._

Puck eyed what he had written and remembered Rachel's cool dismissal of him at the door to the motel room that evening. He decided that it would take more than just effortless charm to gain entry into her panties and truthfully, he wasn't quite ready to tackle that one just yet.

Two, he wrote, _Too many rules are damaging to a boy's spirit, to anyone's spirit._He made a small check mark beside that one because he couldn't help but feel, smugly, that he was making progress in the rules department. Eli was peeing against brick walls and rolling around on the grass, staining those expensive looking chinos Rachel insisted on dressing him in – and the way the kid turned injured hazel eyes on his sister when she tried to gently reprimand him, told Puck that the little boy had inherited some of his underhandedness. His son was a badass.

Three, _Germs are NOT deadly. Dog kisses are one of life's delights._ Well Hank and Eli had already swapped spit so that lesson had hit home. But Rachel was still unhealthily attached to her anti-bacterial wipes. Puck knew the best place to take someone with a germ phobia and had already mentioned it to Rachel and Quinn. He wrote mud bog in brackets next to number three.

Four was a rule that could be tackled at the same time as three, because it dealt with the fact that small boys (and big ones) _needed_ to get dirty.

Puck tapped the end of the pen against the pad as his eyes darted around his messy kitchen, looking for inspiration. His eyes fell on the calendar tacked to his fridge, the edges curled and yellowed since it was actually about 5 years old. He wasn't one for for planning, but he knew Rachel was. Her neat, cursive writing filled every square inch of the calendar hanging by her pantry. Puck remember staring at it, reading about Eli's various play dates and doctor's appointments, Rachel's book club meetings and the reminder to herself to book her car in for a service. The sheer number of activities listed and the way they were grouped and easily identified by the colour she had highlighted them, had made his head explode.

Which made rule number five a bit of a no-brainer. _Not everything can be color coded and fucking catalogued. Life has got to hold surprises._

He read over his list and nodded in satisfaction. That was a good start, and more than enough for a man to accomplish during a two week period.

And yet, Puck felt the pen move across the page of its own violation as it wrote:

_Women who marry for security end up like shrivelled up prunes, who don't laugh enough, never cum and are most likely to jump off a bridge in their middle years._

Well a woman did need to know that! He'd already decided that Finn was all wrong for her and it would be shirking his responsibilities if he didn't actively point that out. Puck was a man who had a healthy appreciation for the female form and the fact that Rachel might commit herself to someone who failed to get aroused by the sight of her compact little body in that tiny red dress made Puck sick to his stomach.

He liked Finn, he really did, but the dude was clueless when it came to satisfying a woman like Rachel. She'd already proven that underneath that cool exterior lay sexual energy and desires that burned red hot and it was criminal not to have that passion unleashed. She needed someone to rock her world and he nobly volunteered himself for the position. That's when _**Operation: Lighten up Berry**_ transitioned into _**Operation: Seduction.**_

Six little things he had to teach her and two weeks in which to do it. There wasn't that much time so he had to get started straight away. He checked his watch, ten twenty-five. _Damn it._ Puck had just decided that he couldn't do much at this time of night when the fates intervened.

His ears perked up as Lima's local radio host, Jacob Ben-Israel, reminded his listening audience that there would be a fireworks display over the lake at 11pm to close tonight's festival downtown in honor of the Cheerio's, McKinley High's Cheerleading Squad, and their 10th consecutive National Title. The cheerleading coach, Sue Sylvester, had talked the mayor into investing a quarter of a million dollars into the event and Puck knew that it was sure to be epic.

Puck smirked. Rachel might not think a midnight outing was at all on her approved list of activities for Eli, but it was definitely on his list – because rules were meant to be broken and you had to welcome the unexpected (see rule 5). Whistling, Puck filled a cooler with juice boxes, bottled water, sodas and ice. Five minutes later he was heading for the door.

He noticed, with some amusement, that she didn't look at all surprised to see him when she opened the door to her motel room slowly and reluctantly granted him entry. She was wearing his favorite Little House on the Prairie nightgown again with her hair loose, long and wavy. He fought back the irrational urge to run his hands through the silky strands and beg her to wear it like this all the time.

"What is it about you and nocturnal visits?" She asked in resignation. "Have you had another late night revelation?"

He had actually. He'd realized how much work he had to do on her and couldn't wait to get started. She didn't look like she'd been sleeping and he noted the barely discernable weariness in her gaze. After his discussion with Quinn earlier, he found himself looking at her closely and saw the shadows in her dark gaze that indicated the near accident today had really shaken her.

"Hey," he greeted cheerfully.

Rachel glowered at him.

"I just heard it on the radio that there's gonna be fireworks over the lake tonight and I don't think Eli should miss it."

"Eli is four years old." She spluttered, "It's close to eleven o'clock and he is in bed, it's far too late for him to be up and gallivanting around."

He cocked his eyebrow, "Gallivanting?" he repeated, amused. "Seriously?"

She raised her chin in defiance and he chuckled.

"C'mon Berry, fireworks!" he exclaimed with a boyish grin. "Do you know how often we have them in Lima? Like, never. They're too good for a kid to sleep through. Just wrap him up in a blanket and we'll wake him when they're about to start."

"We have fireworks all the time on Long Island," Rachel informed him, stubbornly. "Granted, Eli has never been to a display but-"

"So let's take him." Puck interrupted, "it's not like he has to be up early tomorrow. I have juice boxes…" he drawled enticingly.

His easy grin dropped when he saw that she wasn't going to give in easily. He rolled his eyes and racked his brain trying to come up with a way to sway her. A thought came to him and he hesitated. He knew he had to bring out the big guns so against his better judgement, he took a deep breath and got ready to share something he'd never really spoken of until that very moment.

"My dad took off when I was just a kid." Puck started lowly. "I was 11 actually and my Ma was 6 months pregnant with my sister, Sara." He paused and Rachel, who was watching him intently, gave him a small smile of encouragement when it seemed like he wasn't going to continue with his story.

"He was a complete ass-hat," he stated gruffly, "used to push me around and was pretty abusive towards my mom too."

"Money was always tight and Ma had to work like, all the time. Since we couldn't afford a sitter, I grew up pretty quickly and had to take care of Sara a lot. I was in charge of the house, you know, maintenance and shit, learned to cook so we could eat something decent when Ma worked nights and got a paper route with the idea that I could be the man of the house and take care of things financially too." He snorted at the memory.

Rachel was intrigued by his confession but wondered why he was telling her this.

"It was pretty tough, but I was glad he fucked off when he did because my dad made us both miserable. The only one good memory I have of him was when I was 5 and he took me to Columbus for the 4th of July parade. I ate a shit load of cotton candy and later that night they had this fireworks display."

His pupils had dilated at Rachel had the distinct feeling that even though Puck was looking right at her, he wasn't really seeing her, his mind was focused on another time and place.

"It was legit that most awesome experience of my childhood I think. I mean it seems dumb now right? Coz we're grown up and stuff, it seems like nothing, but back then, I don't think I'd ever seen something so fucking spectacular. The sound of them being launched and the explosion of color against the night sky…." His voice trailed off, "my old man was actually fun that night, ya know? It was probably the only time in 10 years he'd actually been sober." He chuckled bitterly. "It was something about that night, I dunno, I thought it was magical."

Puck felt a warm palm graze over his skin and looked down to see Rachel's small hand curling around his forearm and squeezing gently. He looked up to see that her expression was soft and sympathetic.

"I'll just go change out of my nightclothes and we can go."

He nodded and exhaled loudly, his eyes dropping to his Chucks.

"Noah?" he looked up at the sound of her voice and saw that she had paused at the door to the bathroom. "You're going to be an amazing dad." She stated simply.

Before he could open his mouth to respond she had slipped inside and the door had clicked into place behind her. He stared at the spot she had just been and let her words replay in his head.

_**You're going to be an amazing dad.**_

Truthfully, he'd been so focused on determining what kind of mother Rachel was going to make for his son that he'd never given much thought to the type of father he'd be. The answer didn't come to him immediately; all he knew is that he wanted to be one, to this boy.

His feet led him to the bedroom door and he opened it slowly, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness. Eli lay on his back in the middle of the king sized bed, one small fist balled up and resting on the pillow by his head. His lips were parted and his cheeks were rosy and plump.

Puck leant against the door jam and watched the steady rise and fall of his son's chest as he slept. Emotion washed over him, so strong it threatened to knock him off his feet; a feeling of love and the need to protect, of wanting to change the world so that the little boy would never know pain or hurt.

Rachel brushed past him, dressed in jeans and a long sleeved shirt, entering the bedroom and placing her folded nightgown at the foot of the bed. She paused and looked from Puck to Eli.

"He's beautiful, isn't he?" She said with soft reverence.

Puck glanced at her and got that very same feeling in his chest when he looked at her face as he had when he gazed at his son. The realization stunned him. That couldn't be right. She was frigid and controlling. Completely aggravating and severely lacking a sense of humor about 90% of the time.

But considering her in the soft light of the motel room, as she stared at her brother with undisguised adoration, Puck saw it as plainly as he had when she had daringly wore that red dress, when she had stolen his truck and when she let down her guard and laughed out loud.

Prickly was her pretence and her first line of defence. What she really was, he thought, and not for the first time, was something else entirely. His mission had been defined and premeditated, but suddenly, Puck was unsure of the outcome. He wasn't entirely convinced that once the 'real' Rachel Berry was unleashed, he was going to be able to handle it and control what came next. He'd made up his mind that the best way to succeed in his plan was to seduce her, but he had a feeling that you couldn't just bed a woman like Rachel and walk away.

Because even now he was on the verge of doing something stupid, like lean towards her and kiss the tip of her nose and tell her she didn't have to worry about a thing, that he'd take care to ensure everything was right in her world, always.

It took more restraint than he cared to admit to not act on the impulse.

Instead, he took the lightweight blanket Rachel proffered and tucked it around Eli's body as he scooped him up into his arms. Puck tried to understand, as he strode out to his truck with Rachel a few steps behind, how such a tiny boy, whose weight was so insignificant, could change a man's whole world and the way he thought and felt about everything - even his own future which he'd been steadfast in ignoring for the longest time.

He drove them up to a high bluff that looked out over the lake and backed into the parking spot, so that they could sit in the bed of the truck and have a first class view of the fireworks display.

They were huddled in the back of the truck, seated comfortably against old cushions, leaning back against the window with Eli tucked tight against Puck's chest, still fast asleep. Rachel shifted beside him and he felt her press closer to his body as she peeked over the blanket and reached her hand to smooth back the hair falling into the little boys face.

"So tonight's going to change Eli's life forever?" Rachel asked him with an arch of her brow. Her tone implied she was sceptical but the warmth in her dark brown eyes revealed her own excitement.

"It could," Puck returned, struggling to form the words in his suddenly tight throat. His eyes fixed ahead of them as he battled to overcome the confusion his warring emotions were stirring up. "I guess it depends how good these juice boxes are." He added flippantly.

"I'm sure they are more than adequate," Rachel replied as she got comfortable, stretching her jean clad legs in front of her. "It's so quiet here," she commented, "and beautiful." She tipped her head and contemplated the stars in the clear night sky, oblivious to his gaze that skimmed over the slender column of her neck and the gentle curve of her chin.

Even thought the main event hadn't even started, that moment sitting in the back of his old, dirty truck, with his son in his arms and a gorgeous woman beside him put every other moment in his life to shame.

Even the better one's with Shelby, that he'd tried to forget. Once upon a time, he'd thought that sitting on the edge of his couch, singing her love songs as he strummed his guitar, would be as good as it would get. He hadn't imagined that he'd ever top that feeling.

Until now. It was like life had decided to hand him a miracle, although he was completely unworthy of it.

Eli stirred and opened his eyes slowly, "Puck," he said as he yawned, his smile so welcoming Puck didn't know how he'd survived so long without seeing it.

"Hey, little buddy. We're going to watch some fireworks."

The boy nodded sleepily, not really understanding as he turned his head to search out his sister, "Rachel?"

She leaned over and the scent of her shampoo tickled Puck's nose.

"Hi Pumpkin, are you warm enough?" she fussed with the blanket, pulling it tighter around Eli and tucking the edges between the boy and Pucks stomach.

Eli nodded and turned his face up to the stars as Rachel had done a few minutes ago, his thumb finding his mouth.

"Very pwettee." He murmured around his thumb, snuggling deeper into Puck's chest.

The three of them sat in comfortable silence, appreciating the stillness of the night as the velvety blackness stretched out around them.

"Sing?" his son asked out loud and Puck didn't hesitate.

"_Jeremiah was a bullfrog,"_ he crooned softly, without the usual gusto the tune was given in the sanctity of his bathroom.

"_He was a good friend of mine. I never understood a single word he said, but I helped him a-drink his wine. And he always had some mighty fine wine."_

Eli was grinning up at him but turned to frown at his sister. "Sing." He repeated again, insistently.

Suddenly, Rachel's voice rang out into the night, accompanying his and causing Puck to falter in surprise as she hit her notes flawlessly, with perfect pitch and an effortlessness that he suspected would make seasoned professionals green with envy.

"_Joy to the world, all the boys and girls. Joy to the fishes in the deep blue sea. Joy to you and me."_

When the song was over, Eli sighed happily and Rachel was smiling.

"You kept that voice under wraps," Puck commented, his surprise evident.

"I told you I could sing," she reminded him, busying herself with inserting the straw into the juice box, grabbing a water for herself and a soda for Puck.

"Yeah, but you didn't tell me you were 1980's Whitney good," he pressed, his admiration apparent. "You're fucking phenomenal."

She blushed as she handed Eli the juice box. She was talented, she knew, and had never had trouble accepting praise before. But this man, with his disarming hazel eyes alight with appreciation, telling her he was impressed by her voice, did funny things to her heart.

"Thank you." She smiled at him, "but don't swear."

He chuckled and accepted the Coke she was handing him, letting his long fingers deliberately brush against hers as the first of the fireworks burst into the air with a loud crack that startled them both, and almost had the can soaring out of their grasp.

Luckily Puck's hand tightened on it as Eli exclaimed in delight, his eyes fixed on the streaks of light above them.

The little boy's eyes were wide as they watched the display, cooing and laughing as each one exploded and crackled, shards of color dancing across and illuminating the dark sky. Puck felt his heartbeat thump loudly in his chest and Rachel let out soft "oohs and ahhs" as they too watched, enthralled.

It was worth the money the town had spent and seemed to go for hours.

When it was over, they sat very still.

Puck felt Eli go limp against him and he knew, as his breathing formed little warm clouds against his chest, that the boy was out like a light.

"He's sleeping," he said quietly and Rachel nodded, returning her gaze to the stars.

"I wish I had a telescope," she said dreamily, after taking a sip from her water bottle and Puck noticed a few drops slashed on her upper lip. When her tongue darted out to lick it off, he felt a burst of heat go through him. She seemed relaxed and happy, a look on her that he yearned to see more often.

"I think you were right," she continued, her eyes meeting his. "I don't think Eli will ever forget tonight," she smiled wryly as her gaze fell to the slumbering boy. "Despite the fact that he conked out so soon after."

Somehow Puck knew that night was one he wouldn't forget either, for very different reasons and that was just not part of the mission statement he had written himself.

What if his duty wasn't about changing her at all? Maybe what he needed was to change something inside himself that had prevented him from having moments like these, with women like her. To change whatever it was that had kept him away from commitment and from experiencing the greatest gift of all. Puck held tighter to Eli and pondered it.

The plan wasn't about changing his life, was it? No, because he liked his life just as it was, thank you very fucking much. A son he could deal with, but Rachel was a whole other story. He could complicate it right now and take advantage of the sudden tenderness in her eyes and the slackening of her guard - in fact wasn't that what he's been intending? Operation: Seduction, hadn't he called it?

Rachel looked back at him and noticed his furrowed brow and the way his eyes were fixed on her mouth.

"Noah?" she asked unsurely, wetting her lips with the tip of her tongue. In what? Anticipation?

"Huh?" he met her gaze and they stared at each other, unblinking.

"Noah," she said again, but this time it came out breathily and he felt himself lean forward, closing the small space between their bodies, mindful of Eli who was curled against his chest.

She made no attempt to evade him and her eyes fluttered shut as his nose brushed against hers. Rachel was waiting for the touch of his lips but the sound of an approaching vehicle and the sweeping beam of headlights had him pulling abruptly away.

Her eyes flew open and she flushed as she saw Puck avert his gaze. She reached blindly for Eli's untouched juice, tipping the contents of the cup over the side of the truck as the other vehicle parked and a foursome of laughing teens got out and headed to the stairs that would lead them up to the lookout tower.

Puck cleared his throat, "We should go," he stated needlessly and Rachel nodded, gathering the remnants of their drinks and squatting by the tailgate, sliding off onto the ground below. It was her turn to refuse to meet his eyes when she slid in the truck and Puck handed Eli to her.

"Rach-"

"Don't." she beseeched quietly, "It's late. Let's just go."

He waited a beat and got in next her, glancing at her again as he turned on the ignition. They didn't speak again until he was opening the motel door with her key, holding the door open so she could carry a still sleeping Eli inside.

"Rachel," he tried again, running his hand awkwardly over his scalp. "I-" he broke off, unsure of what it was he wanted to say.

"I'll see you tomorrow." He settled on and she jerked her head in what he assumed was a gesture of acquiescence. Puck sighed and as she waited for him to leave so she could chain the door behind him, she was startled when he stepped towards her and pressed his lips to her forehead.

"Goodnight." He murmured, flicking the lock into place of the back of the doorknob as he left, pulling it firmly shut behind him.

Rachel stared at the door and felt the prickle of tears behind her lids, angry at herself for being unable to identify their cause. Eli mumbled something nonsensical in his sleep and she looked down at him and sighed. He was worth it, all this confusion. He finally had that paternal role model she had set out to secure him and despite her initial misgivings, Rachel knew she couldn't have picked a better man for the job. Puck loved Eli already and she knew he would walk through fire for the boy.

She fastened the security chain and wearily headed to the bedroom, pushing all thoughts of heated kisses and missed opportunities from her mind. It had been a long day and if she was to survive the next two weeks - endure the prolonged encounters she was sure to have with the little boy's father - she needed her rest.

* * *

**_A/N 2: I've been roped into participating in a round robin of oneshots over at Live Journal (I say roped when really I jumped at the offer :) )._**

**_Fellow Puckleberry authors missphenix, 2looney, jlz and I, along with others in our extended twitter family have often commented on random Texts From Last Night and laughed at out very 'Puck' they are. So we're giving each other prompts and coming up with hilarious oneshots that you should all take a look at! We have a community over at LJ, Gleeksfln and encourage you to join. Missphenix and 2looney have already posted theirs, jlz is up next and then yours truly! Feel free to prompt us with any particularly awesome texts you like :)_**

**_http:/ /community (dot) livejournal (dot) com/gleeksfln/_**


	9. Oh hi Crazy Jew Mom!

_**A/N:**_** I know…I suck, I suck, I SUCK. It's been almost a month since I last posted and I feel totes guilty, so I'm sorry! I have good news though, this chapter got so long (damn my ramblings) that I had to split it into 2 chapters, that's right – TWO. **

**So here is the first update and I'll post the next one by Friday, I promise.**

**As always, thanks for reading. I'm so glad that my little AU universe has been so wildly popular with you all because most of the time (when my muse is playing nice) I love it as well!**

**Special thanks to jlz who responded to my (quite rude) tweet/rant about not having a beta in my time zone – she got the first look, provided valuable feedback/direction that I'm sure my regular betas appreciate (or they would, if they knew the train wreck the update was before she looked at it!).**

**Annnnd of course to my girls who continue to make things 10 times better with their edits/ideas - even when I threaten to withhold updates/other fic snippets if they don't reply fast enough for my liking *****Mwah***

* * *

Rachel was staring uncertainly at Puck, clutching Eli's hand tightly in hers as she chewed her bottom lip in indecision. Her gaze left him momentarily to once more roam cautiously around the garage, landing briefly on every tool lying out and each piece of machinery visible, as if to gauge how much of a risk they posed to the little boy's safety.

Her dark brown eyes came to rest a few feet behind Puck, on a car hoist that was currently supporting the weight of a silver Volvo ready for him to investigate the starter on an engine that was refusing to turn over.

"Tell me again what it is about that contraption that prevents it from dropping 4000 pounds of metal on Eli if he happens to venture underneath it," she requested nervously, unconsciously pushing her brother gently behind her in a protective manner.

Puck bit his tongue and fought the urge to roll his eyes. Since their near kiss in the back of his truck two nights before they had been walking on eggshells around each other, and he figured that telling her she needed to only worry about things that might actually, you know have a legit possibility of fucking happening, would only earn him the stink eye and jeopardize the morning he had planned introducing his son to the fine world of auto mechanics.

"The hydraulics," he answered shortly, silent patting himself on the back for the patience he was exercising.

Rachel nodded in understanding and seemed to force herself into making peace with the situation. She crouched down to look solemnly at Eli, smoothing the hair back from his forehead. "Alright Pumpkin, I'm going to go into town and do some shopping and you're going to stay here with Puck, just like we talked about ok?"

Eli nodded just as seriously, though, as he looked over Rachel's shoulder to Puck, who was smirking at him and giving him a thumbs up, the little boy had to hide a grin of his own. Puck was thrilled at that small sign of solidarity; he had a feeling his son's badassness was off the chart, its potential just hadn't been tapped yet.

Rachel rose, her face conflicted and he took pity on the anxiety in her eyes. Placing his hand on her shoulder, he squeezed it lightly. She was worrying her lip again in that maddening way that made him want to take it between his teeth and tug on it, so he took a step back, shoving his hands nonchalantly in his back pockets.

"It's only a few hours Rach. I swear I'll watch him like a hawk."

"It's just that he's so little Noah," she fretted quietly, "There are things all over this hazardous grease pit that could cut him, crush him or amputate his limbs…."

Puck had tried to be understanding but sometimes, she was just too freaking ridiculous. Finally, he gave in to his annoyance, "Do you really think I'm going to let something happen to him?" He demanded, insulted. He glanced at Eli who was greeting Hank enthusiastically, the dog having just ambled into the workshop from the porch where he'd been taking an early morning nap, ensuring the little boy wasn't paying any attention to the adults' conversation. "He's my fucking son, ok? You gotta give me a chance to prove I can look after him without you hovering over my shoulder making sure I cut the crusts off his sandwiches the right way."

He blew out an aggravated breath and continued, "Yeah I might not do everything perfect and by the book, but amputated limbs? The fuck Rach? Even I can make sure _that_ shit doesn't happen!"

Rachel had the grace to look shamefaced. She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and offered him an apologetic smile. "I know that, Noah. I trust you with Eli, I do. I think it's just hitting home right now, that this is it. I'm officially sharing him with you now and I-" She paused and swallowed thickly, her head tipping forward as she composed herself, her hair falling over her face like a thick, protective shield.

Puck instantly felt his irritation fade and he sighed inaudibly, reaching out to sweep the curtain of hair over her shoulder so it didn't obstruct her features from his view. The more time he spent with her, the more adept he became with reading her often tangential thought patterns and deciphering the underlying insecurities and worries she tried to mask with that annoying know-it-all persona he hated.

"Hey," he waited until she was looking at him with big brown eyes that were just a little too bright, feeding his suspicion that she was fighting unwarranted tears. "That's not a bad thing is it? You keep on preaching how your mission in life is to make sure he has a dad and I thought we decided that since you found me, he has one. Doesn't mean he's gonna need his mom any less, you know?"

"His mom?" Immediately her forlorn expression was replaced by one of surprise.

"Well yeah," he shrugged, "that's like, your job right? Sure, this situation is a little fucked up, with you and Shelby and me…but that's what you are to him so-"

His rambling sentence was interrupted by Rachel throwing herself into his arms with the force of a mini tornado, almost knocking him off his feet. "Thank you Noah," she whispered as she hugged him tight. "I've been feeling so wretched these past few days, as though I was being replaced in Eli's affections. Of course, you're right."

Before he had a chance to pat her awkwardly on the back or hug her close like he wanted to, she was removing herself from his personal space and looking like she desperately wanted to take back her impulsive reaction to his words. She couldn't quite seem to meet his eyes as she cleared her throat.

"Alright, well I'll just leave you boys to it shall I? We'll meet at the diner for lunch, like we planned at say, 12:30?"

"Sounds good," he replied automatically. As always, he was struggling to keep up with her crazy reasoning but if what he'd said was worth the hug she had so effusively bestowed upon him, he wasn't going to question it.

Rachel gestured for Eli to come back over to her so she could kiss him goodbye.

"Be good for Puck," she requested softly, "and don't touch anything unless he says it's ok."

Eli nodded in understanding and accepted the peppering kisses she gave him with a practiced acceptance that Puck could only envy. "Bye," Eli said with a careless wave that told Rachel he wasn't nearly as traumatized as she was at the thought of their imminent separation, immediately turning his attention back to his canine friend.

She felt her heart tighten at Eli's indifference to being in someone else's care, even though she knew she was being silly. It wasn't as if they were joined at the hip. Quinn often looked after him, as did her fathers, and Eli had babysitters of course, some of whom were admittedly a lot less capable than Puck. But this was an entirely different situation - Puck wasn't just some sitter that she would pay twenty dollars to in three hours time and offer a ride home.

Her walking out of this garage now was the first step in the two of them demonstrably embarking on the co-parenting idea they had floated briefly the last few days, but never really elaborated on. She would no longer be solely responsible for that precious little boy; there would be someone else in his life with a vested interest in his upbringing and his future.

She hated it, yet she didn't; it was all too confusing.

As Rachel looked at him, Puck winked reassuringly and she felt some of her tension ease. The two of them would be fine. Though Noah was incorrigible and often uncouth, when she said she trusted him with Eli, she had spoken the truth. Eli would adore the dirtiness of the work and although she knew his chino's would be stained beyond repair come lunch time, she couldn't begrudge the damage to his not-so-inexpensive clothing when he looked so excited about participating in 'boy time', as Puck had christened it. All her original reasons for wanting a stable male role model for her brother, someone to introduce him to masculine pursuits that only a father could teach, echoed in her mind and propelled her feet into action.

She tightened her hold on her purse and reluctantly backed away, looking from Eli to Puck and back again. With another nod, she spun on her heel and marched towards the car she had rented for the week. When he heard the engine turn over and the sound of her backing out of the driveway, Puck turned towards his son and grinned, "Eli, dude, welcome to Puckerman Motors!"

**/**

"Wrench," Puck requested, staring at the engine he was standing under and sticking his hand out, waiting for Eli to place the tool in his palm.

'Wrench," Eli piped back, handing Puck what he thought was the requested item.

Puck felt his fingers close around a wooden handle and looked down to see Eli had given him a long metal file instead. He smiled and took a knee so he was eye level with his son. "Thanks buddy, but that's not a wrench." He placed his hand on Eli's shoulder and pointed to the multitude of tools he had laid out on the concrete.

"Think back to the tools I showed you and see if you can remember which one is the wrench." He watched as Eli stared carefully at each of his option, his eyebrow furrowed as he thought back to the impromptu tool lesson Puck had given him early that morning. The little boy was wearing one of Puck's chambray shirts with the Puckerman logo stitched into the pocket and a backwards baseball cap, a line of engine oil smudged over one chubby cheek; he looked every inch the son of a grease monkey and Puck had never been prouder in his life.

"Um, this one?" Eli picked up the right tool and held it out for Puck's inspection.

He grinned, "You got it dude!" he held up his hand for a high five that Eli enthusiastically slapped. "Now let me just tighten this-" Puck completed his task and then ushered Eli and Hank over to the side of the garage, picking up the control to the car hoist. He showed Eli which buttons to push and together they lowered the Volvo safely back to the ground without incident.

"Ok buddy, this is it! Now we'll find out whether all our hard work has paid off."

Eli was quick to jump behind the wheel of the vehicle at Puck's suggestion and listened intently as he was lectured on the importance of ensuring that the emergency brake was on at _all_ times. When it was time to turn the ignition, the boy was practically shaking with excitement. As the engine roared to life and settled into a smooth purr, Eli turned wide eyes onto Puck.

"We did it!"

Puck chuckled, "Yeah we did. Great job, I couldn't have done it without you."

Eli jumped down and patted Hank absently on the head. "Are we done now?" he asked, his enthusiasm waning, "I'm hungry."

"Yep, that's all for today." Puck confirmed, wiping his hands on a dirty rag. "I thought we'd go to the park after lunch. Rachel should be waiting for us already so let's just wash up quickly and we'll head over to the diner. I don't know about you buddy, but I could really go for a burger."

Eli agreed heartily and scampered ahead with Hank hot on his heels as Puck pulled down the garage roller doors and closed up shop. He whistled cheerfully, feeling the smile of contentment pulling at his lips the entire drive to the diner, revelling in the one on one time he'd spent with his son. It faded quickly as he recognised the black convertible parked in a space two spots over. Through the diner's window, he could make out the lanky frame of Mike Chang, leaning over a familiar brunette's table.

Jaw tightening, he unbuckled Eli and helped him down from the truck. There was a reason Mike was the only other card carrying member of the N.G.M.N.F.W.N.F.E club; he was relentless in his pursuit of the ladies, and that glint in his eye? The one Puck could recognize even from this distance? Not fucking OK when it was directed at one Rachel freaking Berry. He'd called dibs on her ass and he was more than ready to hit that point home, not only to Mike, but to Berry herself.

**/**

Rachel felt a tap on her shoulder and looked up from the novel she was engrossed in to find a familiar looking Asian man smiling down at her. "Hey there, I don't know if you remember me, but I'm Mike. I answered some questions for you here last week, about my friend Puck?"

She smiled back and marked the page she'd been reading with a clean napkin, closing her book and giving Mike her full attention. "Of course I remember. I don't believe I properly introduced myself, I'm Rachel Berry."

She offered her hand for him to shake and was amused when he made a sweeping gesture, bowing low as he grasped her fingers and kissed her knuckles.

Rachel giggled in amusement and Mike took a seat opposite her in the wide booth without waiting for an invitation. "I thought you and Lima would have long parted ways by now. What are you still doing in town?"

"Well I did go home actually," Rachel hedged, "for a few days. But," she shrugged, "here I am again." She was reluctant to give anything away, with Puck's warning about the local gossip mill forefront in her mind.

"Couldn't stay away huh?" Mike lifted an eyebrow, with a charming, boyish smile. "Tell me, was it the blueberry flap jacks over at Al's Pancake World or the midday madness sales at the Dollar and Dime that won you over? Forgive me Rachel, but you just don't seem cut out for small town Lima, Ohio."

"I'm not," she agreed dryly, thinking back to her morning shopping spree that saw her wander through the local CVS, Walmart and a half dozen specialty stores that, along with a Meijer supermarket, made up the extent of Lima's retail precinct. "I have family, of sorts, in Ohio." She revealed reluctantly. "I'll be spending part of the summer in the area."

Mike's grin widened and he felt his fingers itch to pull out his cell phone and dial Puck's number, entirely too pleased with her admission. He hadn't heard from his friend in a week – in fact, since he had called to inform him that the wannabe librarian hottie was asking after him. Coincidence? Mike didn't think so.

He eyed the cascading brown locks, spilling over her shoulders and took a moment to mourn the bun and the pulling of the hair elastic fantasy he had first associated her with. But damn if she wasn't still one fine looking woman.

"Well that's great, we need a bit of excitement around here and you, you gorgeous creature," he winked roguishly, "seem like just the little lady to provide it."

"Excitement?" Both Rachel and Mike looked up at the deep voice that interrupted their conversation with a sceptical snort.

"Noah! I was beginning to think you were never coming!" There was a small amount of censure in her tone; it figured she was a stickler for punctuality.

The lanky Asian glanced at Rachel with interest as she addressed Puck familiarly by his first name. As far as Mike knew, no one called him Noah, except maybe his mom.

"Am I interrupting?" Puck queried sarcastically, arching his eyebrow and glaring at his friend, having witnessed the tail end of his blatant flirtation. His eyes softened as his hazel eyes slid to Rachel. He made a point of trailing his fingers down her bare arm, in a silent territorial gesture that would not be lost on Mike. "Sorry I'm late," he apologized, his voice low and husky, and he hid his smirk at the way her pupils dilated slightly at the sound.

"No need to apologize," she replied hurriedly, her cheeks flushing. "Michael just stopped by to say hello and -" Rachel's explanation was cut off as Eli appeared out of nowhere and launched himself into her lap.

"Rachel you'll never guess what!"

Her eyes widened comically as she immediately fixed her attention on the rambunctious 4 year old with exaggerated eagerness, "Tell me," she invited indulgently.

The little boy bounced on the leather seat of the booth in his excitement to relay the morning's events to her, "The car in Puck's garage wasn't workin', so Puck and me-"

"Puck and I," she corrected gently.

"Puck and I," Eli stressed, "Fixed it till it purred like a little kitty cat! I was in charge of the tools and we had juice and cookies for break time! I got to turn on the engine and everything. Puck says I'm a natural!"

Rachel spared Puck an amused smile, "Did he now? Well that's wonderful Eli, it sounds like you had an enjoyable time."

He nodded effusively. "I did. But I really want chocolate milk now. Can I? And curly fries? Puck said I could, but I know you gotta say it's ok."

She relented easily, unable to say no to his pleading pout, though she knew she ought to try and talk him into a healthier option -he'd already eaten his weight in hamburgers and fried food this week.

Rachel flashed a smile at Mike who was watching the exchange with interest, "Are you joining us for lunch Michael?"

"Well sure, I – Ouch!" Mike scowled up at Puck who had just kicked him in the ankle. "Apparently not." He slid out of the booth and as soon as he had vacated his side, Puck claimed his spot, his hand casually covering Rachel's, which had been resting next to her silverware. Eli dropped to the floor and crawled under the table, popping up to seat himself beside Puck. As father and son both looked at Mike, the similarities of their features were unmistakable.

As his mind ticked over, he looked between Puck and Rachel, his lips forming an O of surprise when the penny dropped. "Holy shit Puck, is that _your_ kid?" he gestured jerkily at Eli and Puck just stared back at him.

"Goodbye, Mike."

"But dude-"

"Chang!" Puck barked, pushing Rachel's water glass towards Eli when he saw that the little boy had been trying unsuccessfully to reach for it. "Not the time or place. Shut the F-U-C-K up," he spelled abruptly.

Rachel could only drop her eyes to her own menu, making no move to claim her hand back from Puck as an awkward silence fell over the table.

"Ok then," Mike drawled slowly, his usual good cheer taking a backseat to subdued contemplation. "I've got to get back to work anyway. Rachel," he nodded at her, "Good to see you again. And Puck," he conveyed with his eyes that this conversation was far from over. "I'll talk to you _later_."

Puck waved him off disinterestedly, finally letting go of Rachel's fingers and beckoning a waitress over as his smile returned.

"Shit, I could eat the belly out of a cow right now, I'm that famished. Let's order!"

**/**

Puck stood behind Eli's swing pushing him higher and higher as Rachel claimed the one beside them, sitting in the opposite direction so she was facing Puck.

She pushed off with her feet and swung gently, smiling and reaching out her hand to touch Eli's each time they passed each other.

Soon Eli got bored and Puck pulled him to a stop so he could jump off and scamper towards the wooden playground structure, with its numerous towers and bridges just waiting to be explored. Puck leaned against the swing set, watching Rachel watch Eli, a pensive expression on her face.

"You ok?" Puck asked out of the blue and Rachel looked up at him in surprise.

"Of course, why wouldn't I be?"

He shrugged non commitedly, "Just checking. You were a little weird at the garage this morning."

"Was I?" she mused, "I was being silly." She acknowledged, embarrassed.

"That stuff about being replaced," he ventured, "you know that's bullshit right?"

"Perhaps," she acknowledged, "In any case, I appreciate your efforts to reassure me." Rachel offered him a small smile and turned her eyes back to Eli, the toe of her tennis shoe scraping along the chip bark.

"No." he reached out and wrapped his hands around the chain of her swing, effectively halting her movements. "Rach, you know that's bullshit," he repeated. "Eli loves you, the kid fucking adores you. I'm new and fun, and he's like, head over heels in love with my dog, but I'm not _you_. I can never be what you are to him."

"You could," she corrected softly, staring at her hands. "You're his father Noah. You have rights. I'm scared that you're going to take him away from me."

He stared at her bowed head for what seemed like a lifetime, until suddenly, he was pulling her up by her hands. "I'm not going to do that. I wouldn't do that to you." There was urgency in his tone as he forced her to meet his eyes with firm fingers tilting her chin so he could capture her gaze.

Her lower lip trembled and he swore, "Fuck Rach, I'm not-" he shook his head. "I want him," he confessed, confirming her worst fears. "I'd love to be part of his everyday life, but I can't do that by myself. There's no way I can take care of him, day to day, living as I do now."

"Thousands of single parents do," she reminded him quietly, a slight tremor in her voice. "And I'm not his mother, Noah. Not officially. I don't have the same claim to him that you do. You may not intend to take him now, but what if you change your mind down the road? Where does that leave me? I can't be without him."

She wasn't joking, not even a little. Puck could see the legitimate terror in her eyes and his hands dropped from her face.

"I'll sign whatever you want me too." He said tightly as he turned away, angry that she would think that he was capable of stooping that low, when he knew how much she meant to his son.

"Noah," she stepped with him, touching his arm to claim his attention. "What will you sign?"

"A custody agreement, or whatever," he answered stiltedly. "You may not have given birth to him, but you've been his mom in the way it counts, every step of the way. Do you think I want to take that away from him? Fuck, I just want to be apart of it."

He shrugged her off and stalked towards the playground, standing on the fringe with his arms crossed, his jaw locked and his eyes focused on his son.

"I want you to be apart of it too." She said when she had caught up, coming to stand beside him. "This has all just happened so fast. I came down here, not knowing really what I was getting myself into and suddenly, Eli has a father - a real one. It's just," she sighed, "a lot to take in."

"Yeah, I know how it's thrown you for a loop, since you had his father all picked out and gift wrapped already," he couldn't help that it came out as bitter as it did.

"You mean Finn." she stated needlessly.

He rolled his eyes. Every time he thought of her ridiculous plan, he got more irritated with her stupidity. Seriously, she was a smart girl. Did she really think that Finn I'm-so-stupid-I-could-glue-my-hand-to-my-head Hudson was the best choice for her? They hadn't even really been together all that long, and yet Puck was still surprised she hadn't died from boredom already.

Finn was a nice guy, he was just fucking boring as shit. Yes he was comfortably successful and yes, he seemed like a good enough choice for a father figure, you know, providing the kid could already count on one hand and didn't expect the lumbering giant's assistance with multiplication problems, Puck thought cruelly.

But, as he'd thought to himself over and over again, the dude was just all wrong for Rachel. He wouldn't calm her down and tell her in no uncertain terms when to chill the fuck out. She needed someone to test her, to push her out of her comfort zone, but stand there, waiting in case she needed assistance, ready to hold her if she faltered. Finn Hudson wasn't that person, not when Puck was sure that 99% of the time, Finn was pretty much oblivious to anything Rachel said or did.

She needed someone who'd be aware of everything little thing about her. She deserved that. So did Eli.

He didn't bother to answer her. He knew there was no talking her out of it, not when she was so certain that Finn was the answer to all the reservations she had about the way her life might turn out. No, his plan was better. He was confident that if he could just get her to open up, he could make her see that letting go and embracing her heart and her feelings didn't mean disaster, just because it had ended that way with Shelby.

Rachel needed to know that if she just picked the right person, someone she could trust to love her and all her crazy, she could live a life that was passionate and fulfilling and, fucking _worth it._ He couldn't stand the thought of her wasting away, her vitality and spirit restrained until it just…died out.

He would make her see; he just had to pick his words and his battles carefully. Timing was everything.

Puck was waiting at the bottom of the slide, ready to catch Eli at the bottom when he heard his name being screeched from halfway across the park.

"Noah Eli Puckerman!"

His blood ran cold and he turned slowly, briefly glancing at Rachel who was snapping pictures of Eli waving at them from the top of the playground's wooden tower.

"Oh fuck," he cursed, catching sight of the determined looking fifty-something woman bearing down on them with frightening speed.

"Who is that?" Rachel asked with a frown, following his gaze.

He gulped audibly, "That is my Ma."

Rachel's eyes had barely enough time to widen in shock before the Puckerman Matriarch stomped into the playground with a pointed finger at the ready. Said finger jabbed cruelly into his chest and Puck winced at the contact.

"Is it true Noah?" His mother demanded shrilly.

He scratched the back of his head uncomfortably, "That depends I guess, on what you're talking about."

She fixed him with the evil eye, "Don't be a schmuck! You know exactly what I'm talking about. Molly Peterson took great pleasure in calling me this afternoon, to inform me that my son was canoodling with a strange woman in public and parading his _mamser_ all over town. I didn't want to believe it, but that yenta speaks the truth doesn't she?"

He sighed and looked to his feet.

His sigh was echoed by his mother, hers more drawn out with exaggerated disappointment. "Oy Vay, Noah. How could you not tell me I was a grandmother?"

Rachel intervened, touching Puck's arm briefly in silent support, "I beg your pardon Mrs Puckerman, but I don't think you should be so hard on Noah. He didn't know about Eli until quite recently, when I took it upon myself to inform him."

Suddenly, Mama P's green eyes shifted and Rachel felt the older woman's wrath focused solely in her direction. "And exactly who do you think you are? Are you the harlot the town is talking about? Did you sleep with my son and then decide he didn't deserve to know he'd fathered a child?"

Rachel took a step back, her eyes widening at the hostility emanating from the formidable woman. Harlot? Canoodling?

"Ma!" Puck tried to interject, to explain that she was barking up the wrong tree.

"How dare you keep my grandchild from me?" Puck's mother continued without pause, in her best condescending Jewish mother tone, "you ought to be ashamed of yourself! I'll have you know that…"

"Ma!" he waved his hand in front of her face to draw her attention back to him. It didn't work. She barely even blinked as she continued to stare daggers at Rachel, her mouth still flapping.

"…Rabbi Greenwood's nephew is a lawyer, and a close friend of mine who would take on Noah's paternity case, and win, as a personal favour to me and-"

"MA!" He finally shouted, wedging himself between his mother and a cowering Rachel who had paled at the mention of lawyers and paternity cases. "Shit! Enough! Rachel didn't keep Eli from me."

Mrs Puckerman's face lost some of its pinched expression, "His name is Eli?" She asked in a voice soft with wonder and joy.

Rachel nodded tentatively, still protectively half hidden by Puck's body.

"Yes, Puck confirmed, "he was named after me."

"And you say this woman didn't keep him from you?" his mother clarified, her eyes flitting back to Rachel.

Puck shook his head. "No. She wasn't the one who chose not tell me about him. Technically," he stressed, glancing at Rachel. "She's not Eli's mother. And she's not 'this woman'. She has a name," he told her pointedly, "Ma, this is Rachel Berry."

She ignored his introduction and his attempt at good manners. "Technically? What does that even mean? If this girl isn't my grandbaby's mother, then who is she?" She asked, her arms flailing in bewilderment.

"Well, she's his-" he paused uncomfortably, not wanting to have to explain Rachel's connection to Eli and in turn, the affair he'd had with her mother.

"Aunt." Rachel hurriedly stepped in, "Noah had a brief relationship with my sister, years ago. She died and I've only just recently discovered Noah was Eli's father."

She looked up at him, urging him with her warm brown eyes to just go with it. He flashed her a small smile of thanks. His mother was a force of Jewish difficulty and he needed all the help he could get when it came to handling her. "That's right." He agreed. "Rachel was going through her sister's things and found my picture. Eli looks just like me, so she came down to Lima to tell me about him."

Their explanation seemed to satisfy the elder Puckerman who nodded slightly, her lips still pursed. Just as she opened her mouth, presumedly to start her interrogation about the boy, Eli's shrill voice had Rachel and Puck both craning their necks to seek out his small frame.

"Puck I'm ready! Are ya gonna catch me?"

Puck immediately crossed back over to the slide and gestured for him to go ahead. "Sure am buddy, whenever you're ready."

Eli pushed himself off and squealed with laughter as Puck caught him at the end and swung him into the air. When he was settled onto his feet, he grinned up at his father and took off at a run towards Rachel, stopping short and hiding behind his sister's legs as he spied Mrs Puckerman.

Rachel placed her hand on Eli's head and glanced worriedly between Puck and his mother, wondering whether the crossfire had ceased. He went to stand beside Rachel and when his mother tore her gaze from the boy to look at him with wide eyes, he explained quietly, "he doesn't know yet".

She nodded slightly, her greedy gaze returning to and feasting on the small boy; he was the spitting image of Noah as a boy, she decided, feeling her grandson imprinting on her heart already. "Hello Eli," she breathed, smiling widely at him. "I'm so pleased to meet you."

Eli looked uncertainly up at Rachel, who smiled reassuringly, "Don't be rude Pumpkin. Say hello to Mrs Puckerman."

Eli dropped the arm that had been wrapped around Rachel's thigh and took a half step towards Puck's mother.

"Nice to meet ya," he mumbled shyly. Mrs Puckerman beamed and then Eli was off, running back to the playground, darting past the swings and back over to the slides.

"How old is he?" Puck's mother wanted to know, "five?"

"Four," Rachel corrected softly, "He starts preschool in the fall."

They were silent for a few minutes, watching Eli talk animatedly to another boy about his age.

"He's just beautiful Rachel." she complimented, as if it was all her doing.

Rachel smiled at Mrs Puckerman's sudden friendliness, relieved that the animosity of a few minutes ago seemed to have vanished. "He is." She agreed, fingering the small Star of David she wore around her neck, when she saw the older woman's eyes drop to the pendant.

"You're Jewish," Puck's mother stated almost reverently, giving Rachel's entire body a complete – and blatantly obvious – appraisal.

"Yes, I am." She shifted uncomfortably under the other woman's gaze, glancing at Puck in askance.

Puck, for his part, knew exactly where his mother's thoughts were heading – to guest lists, wedding dresses and a half dozen more Jewish grandbabies. He rolled his eyes in exasperation, "She has a fiancée Ma." For the first time ever, he was thankful for Finn and the protection his title as her fiancée provided Rachel. Even if it was only from his bat shit crazy mother.

Mrs Puckerman looked slightly put out by this revelation, "Is _HE_ Jewish?"

"Finn? No. I don't believe he has a religious affiliation," Rachel admitted, confused.

Mama P sniffed dismissively, _the fiancée was expendable then_, she decided privately, but she'd deal with that later.

"You said your sister died. Presumedly you have custody of Eli then, for the moment?"

Seeing Rachel jerk at the question, Puck stepped in, his palm coming to rest on the small of Rachel's lower back.

"Not just 'for the moment', Ma. Rachel has been taking care of Eli since he was a baby. I'm not going to change that situation any time soon." His voice held warning, he could see his mother's mind ticking over and he wanted to set her straight before she decided to stick her nose in where it wasn't wanted.

"He is your son Noah."

Puck's gaze didn't waver from his mother's, "I know that, and I'm going to be involved in his life." He felt Rachel's eyes locked on his profile, watching him closely, "We just haven't figured out exactly what 'involved' means yet. We're all just getting to know each other."

Mrs Puckerman didn't like this. Not one bit. Someone who technically wasn't her grandson's mother had custody of him, and for reasons unknown, her son didn't look like he wanted to step up to the plate and challenge her. She eyed this 'Rachel' again. She looked like such a nice girl, not like those other woman she'd seen (and heard about) her son with. She was pretty and Jewish; there seemed to be only one solution to this predicament and luckily, Mrs P wasn't opposed to it.

"I think you two should go to dinner," she announced authoritatively. "Tonight. I'll watch Eli."

"Dinner?" Rachel questioned nervously, as Puck asked "Why?"

"Because it's obvious you two have a lot to talk about." Puck's mother explained patiently. "Take the woman out Noah, Hashem knows she could use some meat on her skinny bones," Rachel might have taken offense had she not been taken aback by the warmth in her gaze as Mrs Puckerman smiled at her again.

"We're here for two weeks, that affords us ample opportunity to talk," Rachel protested timidly, afraid that the older woman might begin another rant at any moment.

Enough opportunity to hash things out, sure, except that they _hadn't_ been talking. Puck thought his mother might be onto something. He could take her to his favorite Italian place, ply her with a bit of wine and see if he couldn't soften her up a little more. They had barely gotten anywhere today and there were things about Eli's parenting that they really needed to settle, that much was obvious.

"It's cute how you think you have a choice," Mrs Puckerman said sweetly, patting her cheek maternally. "Wear something nice."

Puck chuckled at Rachel's expression. "Resistance is futile Berry. It's best to just go with it," he advised.

"Drop Eli off at my house by 7 o'clock." Mrs Puckerman instructed, "I refuse to go anywhere near your house Noah, knowing the state it's probably in." She didn't wait for an answer, confident in their acquiescence. "See you both then."

As his mother strode away, Rachel looked at him helplessly. Puck just shrugged, "How do you feel about gnocchi?" He asked with a smile, slinging his arm around her shoulders.

"Gnocchi?" she repeated faintly, still trying to comprehend what exactly had just happened and worried about spending any more time alone with this man. He chuckled again.

"Try not to look so unhappy. You never know, you might just enjoy yourself."

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**_A/N: So if you're wondering what it is that's been monopolizing my attention, it's my other multi-chap WIP Choices and Consequences. If you haven't read it yet, you really should (shameless self promotion) becasue it's JUST starting to get good! That is all..._**


	10. Knowing me, Knowing you

_**A/N: Another update, as promised. Am I back in the good graces now?**_

_**This is probably my favourite chapter so far - I hope you all like it too!**_

_**Special thanks to Nikki for telling me what was working and what wasn't, I'm happy with how it turned out.**_

_**Reader shoutout to Elorah who took the plunge and read Be My Shelter this week. I was completely surprised to see your reviews flooding my inbox, since I finished that fic so long ago I forget sometimes that I wrote it! Anyways, thanks for jumping on the WAWSK bandwagon, you've made me grin like an idiot!**_

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A few hours later, Rachel was sitting at a small table in a cozy corner of a small Italian restaurant, wondering when the 'enjoying herself' part might begin. She and Puck had been sitting in uncomfortable silence for the last 20 minutes. They'd ordered wine and made small talk through their appetizers, but now, as they awaited their main courses, they seemed to have hit a conversational brick wall.

It was her fault, Puck grouched to himself as he fiddled with his silverware. Anytime he tried to bring up something personal, unrelated to the weather, baseball or Eli himself, Rachel shut down and refused to tell him anything. He was at his wits end. They just couldn't go on this way.

He watched her roll the stem of her wine glass between her thumb and forefinger and he sighed audibly. When her eyes flicked up to his, he adopted his most serious, non threatening expression.

"Rachel, come on. You can't keep doing this."

"Doing what?"

He gave her a long, appraising look.

"Not talking to me."

She sniffed, "I'm talking to you plenty," she argued, averting her gaze.

"Don't."

It was her turn to sigh, "Don't what?" she asked, her eyebrows quirking in exasperation.

"Don't fucking hide from me." His voice rose slightly and Rachel hissed at him to keep his voice down as she self consciously glanced around to ensure no one was paying them any attention. No one was.

She glared at him and he groaned, passing a hand over his eyes in frustration.

"Shit Rach, can we just call a time out here?" he requested earnestly, his hazel eyes intently searching hers. "I'm sorry ok? I know that I can be sort of a-"

"Jack ass?" she supplied helpfully, "you deliberately go out of your way to irritate and antagonize me."

He shrugged, "Yeah, I guess, what you said. But I'm trying not to. Look, I don't want us to bicker, like all the fucking time. I don't want to feel like I can't open my mouth without you jumping down my throat."

"Well, when you open your mouth, try to curb the impulse to say anything I might consider obnoxious, insulting or down right crude." She suggested sweetly, taking a sip of her wine.

"Rachel," he growled, his eye twitching in annoyance.

She surprised him then by smiling, genuinely. "Ok, you're right," she agreed, "We need to be able to talk to each other, civilly, for Eli's sake."

He nodded, "for Eli's sake," he repeated, "and, because…" he blew out a breath. "Fuck Rach, can we just be honest with each other? There's so much you're holding back from me and yeah I know you think I'm a fuckwit most of the time and that confiding in me doesn't seem all that appealing, but I really think we've got to, you know, trust each other with shit."

She opened her mouth and closed it resolutely. "I am more than willing to extend a branch of friendship to you, Noah, in the hopes that it promotes an open line of communication when it comes to parenting Eli, but no, I don't see why it's imperative that I divulge details of my personal life to you. It seems needless and self-serving on your part. I will not give you anymore ammunition that you already have, to arm yourself with information which you can lord over me whenever you see fit."

"Are you kidding right now?" he asked in disbelief. "Listen to yourself! It's been barely two fucking minutes and already you've got your defenses up. I'm not going to use anything you say against you, Rachel. I just want to get to know you." He held his palms face up as he spoke, his expression sincere.

"You do?"

Puck's gaze was level "I do. You seem to be struggling with a lot of stuff, because of your mom. Not struggling exactly," he amended quickly as he saw her nostrils flare, "Dealing, dealing with a lot."

He paused, "You could talk to me about her, if you want. There might have been a lot she was hiding from me, but I knew her and I hate how torn up you are, how affected you've been by her actions." He let his fingers brush over hers and he turned her wrist so her hand was lying face up on the table and he could draw circles on her palm.

She watched his fingers idly, before her eyes returned to his face.

She shook her head, "Noah, I-"

"Come on Rach, just talk to me." He beseeched and she pouted internally. How was she supposed to refuse him when he gave her that look?

"You're not playing fair," she mumbled crossly, feebly trying to tug her hand back. He refused to let her, holding firm and flashing a winning smile, his teeth white against the bronzed skin of his face.

"Rachel…" he coaxed and she rolled her eyes.

"Fine," she gave in, realizing it might be easier to just give him what he wanted. "What would you like to know?"

They were interrupted by the arrival of their main course.

"Spinach and Ricotta Cannelloni for the lady," the waiter announced, setting the plate in front of Rachel with a flourish, "Beef Lasagne for the Puckerone."

Puck laughed and thanked the waiter, who was one of his old football buddies from high school.

"This looks wonderful," Rachel commented when they were alone again, taking a delicate bite. She closed her eyes and moaned in appreciation, "oh my God, so good!"

He just grinned at her and loaded his fork with lasagne; he had to agree.

They ate in companionable silence until Rachel slid her eyes back to him, swallowing and dabbing her mouth with her napkin. "So, going back to our conversation, what is it that you want to know?"

"I think the better question is, what don't I want to know? I kind of want to know everything." Puck returned evenly.

Rachel smiled, "Everything?" She asked lightly, "I'm afraid you're operating under some kind of misconception – I'm not that interesting."

He held her gaze, "Somehow I don't think that's true."

She flushed and looked down, for some reason her smile widened at that.

"I called Quinn after your off road adventure the other day," he confessed abruptly, laying his fork down on his plate.

Her smile dropped, "I beg your pardon? Why would you do that?"

"Because I was worried about you and somehow I just knew your freak out wasn't because the truck spun out of control a little."

"Oh you 'just knew' did you?" she said scornfully, stabbing her dinner almost violently. "So you took it upon yourself to phone my best friend so you could talk about me behind my back,"

"It wasn't like that-"

"Well what was it like, Noah?" She demanded, placing her own fork down with care and resting her palms on the table on either side of her plate. "Did you not think that perhaps if you asked me yourself, you would have got a direct answer rather than an inaccurate account from a person that wasn't even there?"

"No, because you wouldn't have given me an honest answer," he retorted heatedly.

"You don't know that."

He arched his brow, "Oh no? Let's try it then. Hey Rach," he began sarcastically, "seems like it was more than a deer than put the fear of God into you the other day. I think there might be something else on your mind. What's the problem?"

She huffed. "God, I'm so sick of everyone trying to insinuate there is something wrong with me, and offering unsolicited advice on how I can get over whatever perceived _problem_ they believe I have. It's none of your business Noah."

He picked up his fork again and pointed it at her, "See, that there? That's why I called Quinn. I'm not asking for _all_ of your deepest, darkest secrets Rachel. And shit like your shoe size or the name of the first guy you fucked, they're not things I'm too interested in."

"But the fact that you and my son were in the car with Shelby when she died, that the accident was caused because she was fucked up on prescription meds and alcohol - well that's something that is sure as hell on my need to know list."

Puck was breathing heavily when he finished his rant, his chest rising and falling erratically. Rachel's face had whitened at his statement.

"Quinn told you that?" She asked shakily.

He nodded, "Yeah, and not because she wanted to gossip about you, but because I told her I felt like I was walking through a minefield with you, never knowing when something I say or do is going to trigger an argument. And I guess she thought Eli still having nightmares about the accident is maybe something I should know."

Rachel bit her lip, "I suppose I see the logic in that." She acknowledged quietly. "They don't come often anymore, just when he is feeling unsettled."

He nodded his thanks at her willingness to share that piece of information, but it wasn't enough.

He sighed noisily and leant forward. "Do you know how I felt when Quinn told me that? I thought my heart was going to legit fucking stop. I_ hate_ that you had to go through that. I hate that Shelby's made you afraid to trust anyone, least of all yourself."

She felt the telltale prickle behind her eyelids and she closed her eyes, focusing on her breathing in an effort to keep the tears at bay. A second later she felt his long fingers fold over hers and squeeze gently.

"I carry the guilt with me every single day." The words tumbled from her lips, and even as she told herself she _did not_ want to have this conversation with him, she heard herself add, "That night plays over and over in my head, like a broken record I can't shut off. I should have known she was in no state to drive, I didn't-"

"You were exhausted," he cut in. "You were sick as a dog, walking around on next to no sleep and dealing with a cranky, feverish toddler." He reminded her, remembering what Quinn had told him. "The accident was no one's fault except maybe Shelby's. _She_ made the decision to drive and put you and Eli at risk, not you. You're not like her Rach, you'd never knowingly endanger other people like that."

She gripped his fingers tightly – shocked at his perceptiveness - and reached for her napkin with her free hand, dabbing at her streaming eyes.

"But I-"

"No." He said curtly, not wanting to hear whatever twisted fucking reasoning she had come up with to punish herself. "It wasn't your fault."

They lapsed into silence, her sniffling every minute or so and him rubbing his thumb over her knuckles, his eyes never leaving her face.

"She lost him once." Rachel told him unexpectedly, her voice almost inaudible. "He wasn't even a year old at the time and she'd been out of hospital for a few months. Her case worker said she was doing better, that taking on a bit more responsibility when it came to Eli would help her."

Puck stared at her, horrified, as she continued, "social workers were supposed to be visiting her every day while I was at work, staying with her for a few hours at a time." She paused, lifting her eyes to meet his. "I was doing my teaching placement and hating every second that I was away from him. I had this gnawing worry in my gut that something was going to go wrong." She laughed bitterly, "But her doctors said I was being ridiculous, insinuated it was selfish of me to deny her what they saw was a pivotal step in her recovery."

"What happened?" he asked, resting his other hand on her forearm, the heat from his palm seeping into her suddenly cold skin.

"I got a phone call from the police station. Shelby had been busted trying to buy cocaine from an undercover policeman." She brushed her tears away angrily in remembrance, "I rushed down there and nobody knew where he was, they didn't even know she had a baby. She was so out of it, she didn't remember Eli had been with her when she ventured into one of the roughest neighbourhood in the area."

"Fuck me," he swore with wide eyes. "Where the hell was he?"

She shook her head, "I don't know. Five hours he was missing and I was going out of my mind. The police received a call from a lady in Massapequa - which was more than 40 minutes from where Shelby was arrested - who reported finding a baby crying in his car seat behind a trashcan in a park. A trashcan, Noah!" she was crying in earnest now and Puck scooted his chair around to her side of the table so he could wrap his arm around her and pull her into his chest. "I couldn't leave him for months after that, he came everywhere with me. I couldn't even shower unless he was sitting on the floor of the bathroom with the door locked from the inside…I was just so afraid that he was just going to disappear again. I can't lose him, Noah."

"You're not going to lose him Rachel," he kissed the crown of her hair. "Eli's not going anywhere."

She clung to his shirt, her fists bunching the soft green material as she buried her face into the crook of his neck. Puck's eyes met those of their waiter who was trying to capture his attention, mouthing, "Can I help?" Puck shook his head and held her tighter.

"I know what everyone says about me. My fathers, Quinn, my work colleagues…Finn even-" she pulled back and drew in a deep, shuddering breath. "You all think I'm some obsessive control freak. But can you blame me? Horrible things happen all the time; there are so many messed up people out there, the world is fraught with danger. Why is it so wrong that I want to spare him that? I want him to be happy and healthy; I want him to be _safe_. And yet you all think my methods in ensuring that make me a bad parent."

"No one thinks that." He contradicted.

"You do," she insisted, pushing further away from him. "You constantly belittle me. 'Stop being so uptight Rachel, take the stick out of your behind Rachel. Why can't you relax and have fun, Rachel,' " she droned.

Puck twisted a lock of her hair around his fingers, rubbing the strands between his thumb and forefinger. "It's because there's so many fucked up people out there and things go to shit more often that not that you_ need_ to take pleasure in the little things," he pointed out.

"You're not a bad mother Rachel, you're a pretty awesome one," he told her honestly. "But I'm not going to lie; I do think some of your ideas are completely mental."

"Which ones?"

"Well, how about the one where you're determined to marry yourself off to a man than has so much respect for you," his tone was dripping with mockery, "that he can't even bring himself to ogle your legs, much less touch them."

She pursed her lips in confusion, "That makes little to no sense, Noah. What do my legs have to do with anything? And why is the fact that Finn respects me, a negative? Respect is important in a relationship."

"Rachel, you have the best set of legs this side of Mexico," he told her bluntly, his eyes dropping to the expanse of thigh on display as her skirt rode up. She tugged on the hem self consciously and he smirked at her to diffuse the tension.

"S'true. It's insane that someone so tiny could have such long, gorgeous fucking pins," he dropped his hand to her knee, teasingly sliding a few inches up her thigh. She covered his hand with hers and pushed him away.

"Noah," she shook her head and he grinned crookedly.

"Such a waste," he mourned turning his attention back to her face. She was trying not to laugh (and failing miserably). "Hudson's a nice guy Rach, but seriously, he's got the IQ of a retarded 10 year old."

"Noah! That's highly offensive-"

"Yet surprisingly accurate," he pointed out, unrepentant. "Are you really going to hitch your wagon to his for the rest of your life? Your sex life is clearly lacking and you're already bored out of your brain and you haven't even exchanged I do's yet. Forever is a fucking long time you know."

"I am not bored," she tried to protest.

"Yeah you are." He confirmed.

"How would _you_ know?"

"Because you came looking for me." He reasoned. "You had Finn all lined up and you could have forgotten all about that picture you found. But you drove down here, wondering if maybe I was a better option."

She couldn't quite meet his gaze. "That's absurd," she denied. "You're Eli's father; I was always going to tell you about him. I did not come searching for you out of some misguided notion that you could replace Finn."

"Are you sure?" he asked thoughtfully, "If it was really all about telling me I was his father, I would have expected you to play it a bit smarter. You should have tied the knot first, because if I was the type of guy that had no qualms about uprooting Eli's life and challenging you for custody, a ready made family would make it a lot more difficult for a judge to rule in my favor."

"What are you trying to say, Noah? You said today you _weren't _going to petition for full custody. You're not exactly reassuring me about your intentions." Her brow furrowed and she looked at him intently.

"I'm _saying_, Rach, that you don't reallywant to be with Finn."

"Of course I want to be with Finn." she dismissed easily, "I chose him."

'Exactly!" he exclaimed triumphantly, "You chose him, you didn't fall in love with him."

"Love is complicated," Rachel admitted, "I care about Finn and I really think that-"

"You're settling." He accused with a frown. "You're settling because love is messy and frightening and fucking exhilarating, and the thought of losing control of your emotions, of letting someone else affect you in that way, scares the shit out of you."

She blinked, unable to muster up the conviction to tell him he was wrong. Even if she bought the lie, he wouldn't.

"I could be happy with Finn." she told him steadily, she really believed that.

"Maybe," he returned doubtfully, "or you could be pretty fucking miserable."

At that moment, the waiter interrupted them. "Would you like to see the dessert cart or would you prefer the check?"

Puck looked at Rachel and his eyebrow rose.

He was so sure she was going to ask for the check, eager to draw the evening to a close, that he was understandably floored when she said she was dying for some tiramisu.

"It's my favorite," she informed him shyly and he smiled in return, shifting his seat back in to place, on the other side of the table.

"I'll just have coffee," Puck requested, "But you'll share with me, right?"

"Of course not," she laughed at his expression of mock outrage.

"What do you mean? I'm footing the bill here, Berry. The least you could do is offer me a bite!"

"Well maybe just a little taste," she conceded, "If you're good."

"Baby, I'm always good," he proclaimed with a wink, pleased when she dissolved into giggles. Suddenly, it was as though an invisible cloud had been lifted from overhead; their conversation was lighter and flowed easily for the remainder of the evening. Puck managed to eat a good portion of her dessert, mostly because he was good at successfully deflecting her attention long enough to spoon mouthfuls of tiramisu into his mouth when she wasn't looking, and made it his personal mission to keep the smile on her face and laughter spilling from her full, red lips.

Rachel was still giggling when Puck pulled in behind his mother's red station wagon at close to midnight, and a minute later when they were crossing the lawn towards the house.

"….so her husband is walking up the stairs and she's pushing me onto their bedroom balcony and I realize, it's like 20 feet off the ground. Like, how the fuck am I supposed to get down?" He was relaying animatedly.

"So what did you do?" Rachel asked, enthralled in his tale.

"I tried to climb down the trellis - stark naked - and I must have been making too much noise because he comes out to investigate and I'm hanging over the side, praying he doesn't see me, while the cougar decides to distract him by legit, going down on him right there on the fucking balcony, not two feet away."

"You're kidding!" Rachel exclaimed, her shoulder bumping his as they walked up the stairs and onto the porch.

He shook his head, "Not even a little." They came to a stop outside Mrs Puckerman's front door and Puck leaned against it as he finished his story. "So I'm listening to them, thinking seriously, _fuck my life_, when I'm struck by this icy jet of cold water – the fucking neighbor has seen everything and turned her fucking hose on me, but not before she called the cops to report a streaker in the neighbourhood!"

She couldn't contain her laughter, bending over and clutching her belly as her body shook with mirth, "Oh Noah," she wiped at her eyes as her giggles subsided, "I thought Mike was joking last week when he said you were quite the man whore in your younger days."

"Nope, all true." He said proudly, returning her grin.

She shook her head ruefully and went to ring the doorbell when Puck grabbed her hand, halting her movement. He waited until she was looking at him questioningly before saying softly, "Hey Rach, thanks for tonight. I'm really glad that we talked, you know?"

She smiled at him and he tucked a lock of hair behind her ear as looked down at her, her face only inches from his.

"I'm serious; it meant a lot to me that you trusted me with that stuff." He expanded sincerely.

She squeezed his hand, "Honestly Noah, I'm also glad we talked. I feel," she paused, here eyes flitting over his shoulder as she considered her words, "lighter, for having shared that with you. It's silly I suppose…" Rachel trailed off as her gaze landed on his mouth. She wasn't aware that she was fixating on his full, lower lip until she felt his hands settle on and span her waist.

She swallowed nervously and the air around them charged with static energy.

"Rachel…"

She felt her heart skip a beat as her name passed through his lips and she looked up at him, entranced by the gold flecks she'd only just noticed in his warm, hazel eyes. Just for a moment, she forgot to breathe.

"Noah," She whispered back, "_Please_." Her tone was pleading and she didn't know whether she was asking him to stop and think about what he was most certainly going to do, or if she was begging him to close the already miniscule distance between them.

Luckily he chose for her.

His arms slid around her and she gripped his biceps as she watched him lower his mouth to hers in breathless anticipation. He paused just above her lips, gracing her with a sexy little grin which made her lips quirk right back, involuntarily.

She wasn't doing anything to discourage him, she realized, so she tried a half-hearted protest.

"We really shouldn't," was all she could manage.

Puck was swift to disagree. "Nah babe, we really should."

And then he was kissing her and everything changed. It was electric, thrilling, dizzying; every adjective in the dictionary couldn't do justice to the exquisite way in which his lips were moving over hers. The heat of his body and the skill of his tongue drove every thought of hesitation completely from her head. All she wanted to do was feel the play of his muscles under her hands and ensure his fingers never, _ever_ stopped their path of discovery; stroking over the bare patch of skin above her hip where her blouse had ridden up, displaying an expanse of smooth, tanned flesh that he couldn't stop touching.

What started out as tentative and exploratory, quickly became frantic and intense and when they parted to take long, overdue lungfuls of air, she realized Puck had one hand snaked up and under her shirt, resting in the middle of her back and pinning her against his body, while the other was blatantly (and daringly) cupping the curve of her ass. She, in turn, had wound both arms around his neck and was clinging unabashedly to his warmth.

"Why did you do that?" She gasped, trying to catch her breath. She tried to detangle herself from him but he refused to let her go, holding her to his chest as he tugged gently on her hair, forcing her to look at him.

He didn't answer her question; he just let his eyes roam over her face. Puck groaned and nuzzled her cheek, "Fuck, you're beautiful," he said with feeling, "I can't keep my hands off you," he demonstrated that by squeezing her hip and sliding the fingers of one hand back under her shirt to caress her lower back.

"You have to," she tried to tell him sternly, pushing ineffectively at his chest. The move was futile as she wasn't afforded even an inch of space.

"Why?"

"Why?" she repeated, buying herself some time to come up with a credible excuse. But his calloused fingertips drawing lazy circles over her spine proved too distracting for her scattered thoughts.

"Eli," she said hazily.

"Is not here." Puck pointed out, pressing his lips to the pulse beating wildly at the base of her throat. "Try again," he suggested as he moved up the column of her throat.

"Hmmm," her fingers dug into his shoulders as her body pressed against him, even as her mind scrambled for something,_ anything_, that would put a stop to this madness.

"Finn," Rachel finally remembered, her hands sliding down to push harder and more insistently this time, at his chest.

"Fucking Finn," Puck muttered, the other man's name causing him to bristle. "Tell me, do his kisses make you feel this way?" he took her lip between his teeth and tugged on it gently before trailing his lips back over her chin and down her neck. "Does the touch of his hands cause your heart to skip a beat?" Boldly, he palmed her breast through her blouse and she arched into his touch. "Does his voice make you go fucking crazy?" He growled into her ear, suppressing a smirk when she shivered.

"Because your kisses, your hands and your voice do that to me, and fuck Rach, I have to have you." He backed her against the door and attacked her lips again, oblivious to the living room curtain that twitched in the window barely three feet away.

Unknowingly, they were giving his mother quite the show.

"You want me too," he told her confidently a minute later. "Fuck Finn! Fuck your engagement! You need to be with a man that wants you in this way," he pressed his arousal against her stomach. "You're so fucking sexy Rachel; you're gorgeous and passionate and you deserve to have someone that's going to set you on fire as well."

She trembled in his arms, "No." she shook her head blindly, leaning as far back from him as she could, which was difficult given the hold he had on her. "I told you, I don't want that." She said, almost desperately.

"I don't want to feel that way, I don't_ want _to lose control-" she felt a tear slide down her cheek and his grip loosened. He still didn't let go, but he carefully brushed the tear away with gentle fingers.

"It's ok to lose control Rachel,"

'No-" she whimpered again.

"Yes."

He was quiet for a moment, "You're not your mother, Rachel. You're not going to become a slave to your emotions to the exclusion of everyone else," he promised. "The fact that you're so worried that you'll end up like her just proves that you won't. You love Eli too much -and your fathers and Quinn - to ever allow yourself to give into anything inside you that might do them harm."

'You can't know that. She was ill, she was crazy," Rachel pulled him back to her by his collar and pressed her face into his shirt, "I don't want to be crazy," she whispered brokenly.

He hurt for her. "You're not crazy Rachel," he said, unable to keep the anger from interjecting into his tone. Damn fucking Shelby to hell for screwing with her head.

"You're not. You're good, there's not an ounce of the darkness that claimed her in _you_."

"I want to be with Finn," she sniffled, "I want to feel safe-"

"And do you think he's the only guy that can make you feel that way?" Puck demanded into the crown of her hair. "

"He's not. You'll find someone Rach, someone who makes your skin tingle and will do things to your body, draw reactions from it that you didn't even think possible. And if it's right – if you love him, if you _trust_ him, he'll make you feel safer than you ever felt before."

Her red-rimmed eyes met his as she pulled back and he brushed his thumb along her lip. "I could show you, Rach. I could show you how it could be."

She stared at him, "What are you saying, Noah?" her heart was beating so fast she thought it would burst right out of her chest. Snapshots flashed through her brain, of his lips on her skin; of her naked and panting underneath him. She saw herself with Noah and Eli eating ice cream cones in the park; imagined standing with Noah as they saw him off on his first day of school and countless evenings where they'd put the little boy to bed and kiss him goodnight….was he saying he wanted her to consider a future with him?

The next words out of his mouth completely dashed her fleeting fantasy. "Give me these next two weeks, Rachel. Forget about Finn, forget about Eli – he won't even know. We'll be discreet and afterwards, we never have to discuss it again." He proposed. "Trust me, and I can show you what you've been missing out on."

Of course he wasn't suggesting she uproot her life, her entire belief system and move out here to be with him. He wasn't telling her he thought he could love her, that he wanted to be a real family and raise his son together, she thought dully.

He was a founding member of the N.G.M.N.F.W.N.F.E club; he wanted to fuck her. He was talking about wanting to unleash the passion in her - for her own good, he was claiming.

"No." He must have noted the change in her expression, noticed the way her spine straightened, because his arms dropped and when she took a step back she was rewarded with her own personal space.

"I don't want to have a fling with you Noah; I'm not that kind of woman. I can't engage in sexual relations just for the carnal gratification factor. I don't do affairs; I want something tangible and lasting." She stressed.

"Rach-" he ran a hand through his hair, "I-"

"You don't want a relationship, you don't want to get married," she reminded him. "You told me that the very first day I met you, that the life of a bachelor was the life for you. I'd want more than you can give me."

"I said that before I knew you," he said lowly.

"What, and now that you do your entire outlook has changed?" She laughed sceptically.

"Yes, no…maybe…._Fuck!_ I don't know." He ground out, frustrated. "I'm not saying I want to get hitched tomorrow, but it wouldn't be so bad would it? You, me and Eli? You can't hold what I said against me. I wasn't a father a week ago, Rachel. I wasn't thinking about the future."

Puck didn't know how they got here. Yes he'd been thinking about her lately, his thoughts venturing past the initial stages of _Operation: Lighten Up Berry_. He'd thought screwing her was the best way to relax her, to loosen her up. Because that's all it had been about then, her control issues and the fact that he thought she didn't have enough fun.

But the past few days had shown him that there were bigger issues at hand. Having gotten to know her, having been shown where her obsessive need to have her life structured and ordered came from, the gravity of the situation changed everything.

It wasn't a game anymore. She wasn't a project that he was undertaking, that list – his _stupid_ fucking list – was a joke. She was a _real _woman, with real insecurities and deep rooted, psychologically scarring, and the need to hold her and kiss away her fears was becoming stronger the more time they spent together.

'What if it did work out, Rach?" he ventured slowly. "Between you and me? What if the two of us made sense? We could be a family."

Rachel couldn't look at him, for fear the effect his words were having on her would be blatantly stamped across her features.

He paused, his eyes boring into her profile. "What if we were happy?' He held his breath as the question left his lips. He hadn't allowed his brain to actually contemplate it until it was out there and surprisingly, he wasn't running for the hills. He found himself willing her to take the chance.

"It's a nice thought," she answered quietly. "And I appreciate the sentiment, Noah. But I don't believe you're a viable option."

His stomach sank at her frank admission.

"I made the decision to marry Finn a long time ago and that's exactly what I intend to do, regardless of your thoughts on the matter."

He stared back at her, his gaze disappointed. "You're making a mistake." He told her flatly and she just shrugged, leaning over to knock firmly on the door.

"Well then, if it's a mistake I guess I'll just have to live with it." She said evenly. She pasted on a ready smile for when Mrs Puckerman opened the door and pretended not to hear him mutter under his breath, "We'll see."

**/**

In the end, Noah's mother had decided that due to the lateness of the hour and the fact that Eli was already comfortably situated, fast asleep in her guest room, it would be better for him to stay there the night. Puck would pick him up in the morning before collecting Rachel on the way out to the lake. Camping was on the agenda for the next three days and she was fervently thankful that there were miles of shoreline and a whole thicket of woods in which she could escape from him.

Rachel lay in the dark for a long time after Puck dropped her off, contemplating his words. _We'll see_.

She thought she'd been firm enough, she thought she'd made it abundantly clear that her mind was made up and that no opinion of his would sway her plans. She couldn't blame him she supposed, for having doubts about the validity of her engagement, because he had kissed her a total of 4 and a half times (she considered their almost kiss in his truck worth assigning half a point, for the intent was there) and she hadn't made more than a cursory effort to not kiss him back.

Well, there was something she could do that might illustrate the fact that she was, in fact, committed to another man.

Resolutely, Rachel picked up her cell phone and dialled Finn's number. She tried not to look at the bright red numbers on the alarm clock and was pretty sure Finn wasn't going to remember the last time he was up at two in the morning either.

She was just about to hang up after the seventh ring when his sleepy voice answered the phone.

"Hi Finn, it's Rachel."

"Rachel?" She could hear him groping around and knew the precise moment his eyes landed on his own clock because the sleep dropped from his tone and he sounded worried, "Is something wrong, Rach?"

She cocked her head to the side as she heard something in the background. Was that…was he with a woman?

"Nothing's wrong," she answered slowly, her ears straining for any other telltale signs that Finn was otherwise engaged in the company of someone else. "I just wanted to hear your voice."

The silence was long and surprised. All she could hear was his even breathing and she dismissed her earlier suspicion. Of course Finn was alone; it had been ridiculous for her to think otherwise.

"Oh. When the phone rang I thought it was my mom, she's gone to Bali with her boyfriend you know."

"No, it's just me….I wanted to call to say that I-" she paused, "missed you." The words tasted like sawdust in her mouth.

"Oh," he said again. "That's nice."

She pushed back her disappointment. Well what had she expected him to respond with at this ungodly hour, she tried to reason. The truth, she would have thought. Maybe '_I really miss you too, Rach.'_

After another uncomfortable silence, he ventured, "So, um, how was the drive?"

She realized dully, that she hadn't bothered to call once since her arrival. And of all questions, he had to ask that one! What was she supposed to answer? I had an unexpected moment of freedom and I'm terrified I could be secretly yearning for and becoming addicted to more moments just like that?

"The drive was fine," she said instead, wondering whether their conversations had always been so wooden and lacking in enthusiasm. "Eli was well behaved, that is, up until Noah taught him how to write his name in his own urine," Rachel added indignantly, before cursing under her breath the moment she said his name.

Finn was chuckling, "Sounds like Puck," he commented fondly, as though he had known the man for longer than part of the two days he had spent with him.

She let out an aggravated breath; she didn't want to talk about Noah. "I was thinking Finn, that we really ought to set a date."

"A date for what?" he asked, baffled.

"For our wedding!" she recognised the slight hysteria in her voice and closed her eyes, breathing deeply through her nose.

"Oh, that. Well there's no rush is there?"

Well yes, there was a rush. Because that very evening she had allowed herself to be kissed senseless by a man who was trying to convince her that she was better off letting go of Finn and kick starting an affair, one that might possibly end up being the most passionate and fulfilling one she'd ever have, but also had the potential to cripple her emotionally in the wake of its disastrous collapse. And for some reason, she was sure a relationship with Noah, casual or otherwise, would ultimately fail. She hadn't allowed herself the luxury of contemplating his suggestion._ 'What if it did work out Rach, between you and me? What if we were happy?' _

Noah didn't want a relationship with her, despite his claims to the contrary and she couldn't remember ever being happy - _really_ happy. She thought that maybe it just wasn't supposed to be that way for her. She'd thought for a long time that the best shot she had was to achieve contentment, and that's what she felt with Finn. So yes, there was a terrible rush, because if she didn't commit to him, totally and irrevocably, alarming and unpredictable things were likely to unfold and she wasn't prepared to deal with them.

"Could we discuss this some other time?" Did she hear an edge of panic in his voice, she wondered.

"How about in general terms?" She pushed. "Were you thinking in the fall perhaps?"

"This fall?" Finn squeaked loudly.

"Or winter, or spring." She offered quickly.

"Rachel, I-" he sighed, "No."

"No?" she repeated softly, her heart sinking.

"No. I think that we _really_ need to talk when you get back." Finn returned quietly.

"If that's what you want," Rachel whispered into her phone, wondering if she was reading too much into his statement. She heard movement on the other end of the line and muffled words, as though he was holding his hand over the receiver.

"…it's fine Finn." She hadn't been wrong. That was unmistakably the sound of a woman's voice - Finn had taken his hand from the mouth piece a moment too soon.

"Enjoy your trip Rachel," he said when he came back on the line, "give Eli a hug from me and I'll see you on the 17th."

"The 17th." She repeated dumbly, shocked at the knowledge that right that second, there was another woman in Finn's bed.

"Bye love."

When she heard the click in her ear she shook herself out of her stupor and closed her cell phone with a snap, letting it drop from her suddenly numb fingers.

'Bye love," was not the same as _I love you_ and come to think of it, not once had she and Finn said it to each other. Theirs wasn't that kind of relationship. It wasn't about flowers or stolen kisses or midnight phone calls. They didn't love each other. They _liked_ each other, they respected one another.

They were both kissing other people.

"You were using him," she said out loud. Surprisingly, there was no shame in her statement. She knew Finn was aware of why she had chosen him. He knew she had wanted a stable home for her brother. He knew he had been chosen, not because he stirred her heart (or her libido) but because he was the safest choice. He was the man least likely to do senseless things, to cause her to act on impulse. Since that fear lived inside her, the terror that being Shelby's daughter meant a well of crazy lived inside her ready to blow her whole world apart, she clung to Finn's…well, _dullness_.

She knew he knew that – not that she thought he was dull, but that she had chosen him because he made her feel safe - and she'd never paused to question why that seemed to be good enough for him. He was a nice man and he deserved better that what she could offer him. Rachel had never considered that maybe Finn had an agenda of his own but now, she couldn't help but question his motives for proposing when it was obvious their relationship was lacking.

Who was this other woman? And what did she mean to him; what did she mean _for_ them? Rachel wondered. She couldn't even bring herself to be upset about Finn's apparent infidelity, since wasn't cheating exactly what she had been doing with Noah?

She shook her head in confusion. She didn't know what she had been doing with Noah. Viewing fireworks in the middle of the night, she remembered. Racing down dirt roads and tracing the outline of his mouth with her tongue as the waves crashed around them…

She wished she hadn't thought about the shape of his lips. They were the very thing that could bring the crazy out in her, the crazy she worked so hard to contain.

And they did, because she found herself reaching for her discarded phone and dialling another number.

She fidgeted nervously, waiting for him to pick up and when he did, the butterflies in her stomach increased ten fold and her brain scrambled, trying to figure out what she was going to say.

_"Hello?"_

* * *

**_A/N: Ok so that's it for a little while. I'm going back to C&C and also working on Round Robin fic #2 (check out my authors page for details). Love it or hate it? Let me know! _**


	11. Baby of Mine

_**A/N: This chapter is REALLY long. Make yourself a coffee or something, get snacks and warn your loved ones you'll be M.I.A for half the day, lol. Sorry!**_

* * *

"_Hello?"_

She didn't say anything for a second; she just let the sound of his deep voice caress her spine like a shiver.

"Hey Rachel," Puck said into the silence, his tone rough with sleep, but not irritation.

"How did you know it was me?" she asked, leaning back into her pillows and drawing her knees to her chest.

"Just a guess," he teased, amused.

Rachel found her lips forming a small smile, even as she tried to fight it. 'I'm not the type of woman to make middle of the night phone calls," she protested.

"You know what?" he asked lowly, a sound that had goose bumps breaking out all over her skin. "I don't think either of us knows exactly what kind of woman you are yet."

She seemed to have lost her voice.

"But I can't wait to find out."

His voice was sexy. There was no denying it. She felt the heat pool from low in her belly, a dull ache that settled between the apex of her thighs.

"Noah…."

He chuckled, "I'm glad you called, Rach."

"You are? Why?" she asked almost breathlessly.

"Because it's unexpected. Life needs to hold surprises." That was rule number five on his list. Though he had vowed to scrap his plan, he was pleased that she was learning (what he considered important) all on her own.

"And I wanted a chance to clear the air," Puck had continued. "We were getting along so well and then-"

"Yeah." She replied inarticulately. "Can we just forget about that?"

He cleared his throat. "I guess - if you want." But _he_ didn't want to forget about it. He didn't want to pretend like he hadn't asked her to dump her fiancée for him; didn't want to act as though he hadn't thought, for even half a second, that she might say yes.

That half a second had been pretty awesome.

"So, what's up?" He was rustling his bed covers and she could picture him sitting up, leaning against his headboard, as she was, settling in to talk to her, not trying to figure out how to rush her off the phone as Finn had done.

She hadn't pictured what Finn looked like in bed. She contemplated him now, tucked under his covers with a plain grey t-shirt and a pair of plaid pajama bottoms - Rachel refused to picture the faceless woman curled into his side.

Her mind returned to Puck. She bet he wore nothing at all.

"Um, nothing. Goodbye!" she said nonsensically, thankful for the anonymity of the phone and the fact that Puck couldn't tell what she was thinking or feel the heat flooding her cheeks.

"Hey wait a sec, did you call for a reason?"

Well no, honestly. She hadn't been thinking when she dialled his number, but what would he think if she said she called just to hear his voice?

"Yes, I called to tell you that Finn and I just talked about a date for the wedding," she announced flatly.

Silence, and then his voice again, calm and sensuous.

"You talked tonight, at two in the morning? Wow, scared you that much did I?"

"It had nothing to do with you," Rachel returned heatedly into the phone, panicked at the thought that she was so transparent. "We've been engaged for months and wedding plans can be quite involved. I thought it was about time I got a head start on the planning."

Puck sighed inaudibly, frowning at her stubbornness. She was really going to fight him on this every step of the way, ignoring the truth about her relationship with Finn that was abundantly clear to everyone but Rachel. He was going to have to find another way to get through to her, because he sure as hell wasn't giving her up on a silver platter to Hudson. Rachel was challenging, she didn't intend to make it easy for him. He kind of liked that about her.

"I think I could have waited until morning to hear that." He said dryly. She felt foolish. Of course he wouldn't have wanted to be woken up in the middle of the night for that piece of news, even if it was true and not just the first excuse she had grasped out of thin air. There were probably only a handful of reasons or activities he would want to be woken up for, most of which, she was sure, were ones she didn't care to contemplate when she spent far too much of her time lately thinking of Noah in intimate terms already.

"Actually I didn't call to say that," she corrected herself, "I called to say thank you, for tonight. Not for the argument afterwards or the kissing part, obviously, but for dinner." Rachel was clearly babbling like a lunatic, and just as clearly unable to stop herself, "though the kissing part was nice too…..Oh, shoot!"

She closed her eyes in mortification when she realized what she'd said, as his laughter rang down the line.

"Great, I'm glad."

"I meant I enjoyed your _company_." She emphasized, knowing she couldn't retract her admission. "You were right when you said we needed to be honest with each other. I just hope that that last part of the evening hasn't done any irrevocable damage to the progress we made. I like to think we understand each other a little better now," she finished awkwardly.

"That we do," he agreed, grinning at her apparent discomfort. She wasn't as indifferent to him as she liked to pretend, that was a big fucking plus.

"Okay. Well, goodnight."

"Goodnight, Berry."

She felt relief flood her body. His tone, the teasing lilt to his voice was almost welcomed. She was afraid that after the way they had left things that night, the easy camaraderie they had discovered during the second half of their dinner would be lost. She was thankful that didn't seem to be the case.

"Noah, I have asked you repetitively not to call me that!"

"Sorry," he laughed again, a deep rumble that had her tingling all over. "I forgot the rules. Perfectly understandable in the middle of the fucking night wouldn't you say?"

"I suppose," she didn't hate it, his preference of addressing her by her last name rather than her first. It wasn't indifferent or casual, not in the way he said 'Berry', all warm and affectionate-like. "It's late, I have to go."

"Hmm, well thanks for calling. By the way, what date did you set?"

She'd hoped he wouldn't ask that. "I said we talked about it, not that we had set a date," she reminded him.

"I see the distinction," he replied wryly.

She huffed, though she wasn't nearly as annoyed as she though she ought to be. "I wish you wouldn't make fun of me."

"I'm trying. But sometimes, you make it really easy." He let that sink in for a minute.

"Goodnight Rach."

_Hang up the phone_, she willed herself.

"Finn slept with someone," she blurted out, clutching tighter to the receiver and praying he had heard her and she wouldn't hear dial tone for the second time that night.

Puck exhaled loudly, "Wait, he what?"

Rachel bit her lip, "I called him and there was a woman, in the background."

"Ok," he thought quickly, trying to gauge how she felt about the situation; he couldn't tell. "Well that doesn't mean-"

"It was two AM Noah," she interrupted quietly, "I woke them up."

"Shit," he paused, "I'm sorry, Rachel. Are you ok?"

She was touched by his concern. "Fine. I just-"

"Yeah?"

She let the silence stretch between them and just listened to the sound of his breathing.

"Rach? You still there?"

"Yes, I'm here," she answered, bunching the comforter nervously in her hand. "I'm just thinking…"

He held his phone a little tighter, "Oh yeah? About what?"

"About everything you said." She answered vaguely. "About my relationship with Finn."

He didn't say anything, didn't jump all over her statement with any 'I told you so's' which she was eternally thankful for.

The future she planned with Finn was shaky now at best and there was a very real possibility that she didn't have a fiancée to go home to. She was running out of reasons to ignore the attraction she felt towards Puck, and the earnestness of his hazel gaze that evening, when he'd pinned her against his mother's door, begging her to give him a shot, replayed over and over in her mind.

She knew she wasn't ready to take that leap of faith, trust that he was sincere when he said that he could show her what it would be like to give herself up to that raging inferno of emotion inside her and still make her feel safe and protected.

But she was intrigued. She wondered how long his offer would be valid for.

"Alright, well that's all I wanted to say." She said when the silence stretched out for longer than she felt comfortable with. "Goodnight Noah," she said softly, "I'll see you in the morning."

"Bright and early," he agreed, "First Annual Puckerman Camping Trip."

"I can't wait," she told him honestly. She hung up the phone after his "Sweet dreams," turning onto her side and hugging her pillow to her chest. Suddenly, she smiled, burrowing down under the covers and contemplating three whole days of Noah and Eli, out by the lake. There'd be campfires and swimming, hours of lazy reading and yes, knowing Noah, ample opportunity for a stolen kiss or two…or several. She giggled and pressed her face into the down pillow, aware that the next few days could completely and indisputably change the entire course of her life – her future stretched out before her like a blank canvas and for once, she hadn't a clue what the final painting would look like.

For the first time in a long time, the unknowns in her future did not concern her. She was looking forward to them. Tomorrow couldn't come soon enough.

***/***

Puck hung up from Rachel thoughtfully. On a hunch, he dialled Quinn's number.

"Why are you calling me?" She groaned into the phone as she picked up.

"Where are you?" He asked without preamble.

"In bed," Quinn replied in a tone that implied he was an imbecile for asking that question at close to three o'clock in the morning.

"With who?" he asked pointedly. Quinn took her time answering.

"Finn," Puck surmised, shaking his head.

"How did you know?" She asked urgently, shushing Finn who had woken up again and was mumbling incoherently.

"Rachel."

Quinn shot up, clutching at Finn's arm before she leaned over and groped for the lamp switch on the bedside table.

"Rachel knows I'm here?" She asked guiltily, holding the sheet protectively to her naked breasts. She glanced at Finn whose eyes had widened. ***/***_Crap_, he mouthed.

"No," Puck assured her. "She just heard some skank in the background when she was on the phone to him. I just figured it was you."

"Fuck you." Quinn said evenly and Puck laughed.

"Kidding," he placated.

"Is she okay?" Quinn worried for her best friend. It might not seem like it, given that she was, at that very moment, in bed with Rachel's fiancée, but the circumstances were extraneous and she felt sure, when she explained her feelings to Rachel, that her friend would forgive her. She hoped Puck held true to his promise, and that Rachel would be so distracted trying to fit Puck into the perfect family she wanted to create for Eli, that she wouldn't have much time to worry over her broken engagement. It was selfish, Quinn knew, but she couldn't help it.

"She's great," Puck promised, smiling to himself as he replayed their last conversation in his head. "You and Hudson good?"

Quinn looked shyly at Finn before answering, "I think so."

"Cool, listen. I don't know what you two are planning to tell her but I think you should hold off on any grand confessions," he advised sagely.

Quinn perked up at the scheming in his tone, "What do you mean by that? What have you done?"

"Nothing. Yet." Puck added. "But I think if you give me a few days, the news will be easier for her to swallow. Does Hudson know 'bout me and Rach?"

"What is there to tell?" Quinn asked curiously and Puck snorted, having no intention of filling her in. He didn't want to jinx it. "Yes, he knows. I clued him in on your little flirtation when we…" she paused delicately.

"Decided you were hot for each other and to hell with whoever was standing in your way, even if that person is your best friend," Puck supplied, not unkindly.

Quinn didn't bother trying to justify her actions. She hadn't meant for it to happen, it just did and she didn't answer to Noah Puckerman, of all people. "Finn was understandably shocked. He hadn't picked up on the smouldering tension between you." She smiled at her lover who was still looking adorably confused, "he was surprised, but he's not upset."

"He has no reason to be, she hasn't done anything wrong." Puck defended gruffly. And she hadn't. He'd instigated every one of their kisses, except maybe for the steamy little make out session at the beach, but even that one he had goaded her into. He'd take full responsibility for them all.

"So far…" Quinn said and Puck rolled his eyes.

"People who live in glass houses…yada, yada. Whatever. Point is, you and Hudson aren't exactly in the best position to judge other people's secret fucks,"

Quinn gasped, "You haven't-"

"Yet." Puck said again with a shit eating smirk. "Use protection." he recommended before hitting disconnect. He threw his phone carelessly to the side, folding his arms under his head as he stared up at the ceiling. Well that night had been full of surprises, he mused. He could only hope the following days would prove to be just as exciting.

Confident in the fact that Rachel had packed her red bikini, he was sure they would be.

***/***

Rachel stood with her hands on her hips, surveying the campsite that would be her home for the next three days. Puck had chosen a spot under a canopy of oak trees, with a picnic table and large fire pit, only fifty yards from the lake's shore. As far as spots went, it was quite spectacular but the infestation of mosquitos and the fact that there was no bathroom within a five mile radius (a detail Puck had purposely left out until the very last minute) was putting a dampener on her excitement.

She heard Eli and Puck whooping triumphantly behind her and she turned, smiling as she watching them secure the last of the tent pegs and slap palms enthusiastically, chattering about their plans for the next few days. She walked over to them, her smile still in place, until she heard the tail end of their conversation.

"What do you think buddy? We just need to pump up the air mattress for Rachel and we're all set up. Pretty sweet huh?"

"Yeah." Eli agreed happily, standing beside his father as their identical hazel eyes swept over their sleeping quarters. "But Rachel's not going to like it. She'll make us go home." Both adults could hear as the excitement drained from the little boy's voice, to be replaced with disappointment.

Puck's eyebrow furrowed and he glanced down at Eli, "Why do you think that? Rachel told us both this morning how much she was looking forward to camping with us."

"It's dirty. Rachel hates dirt."

Puck looked up then, catching sight of Rachel standing a few feet behind them. She was biting her lip and looking crestfallen at Eli's declaration. Was she really that much of a kill joy that she could disappoint her brother without even opening her mouth?

"Yeah, she does." Puck admitted, his gaze locking on Rachel's. "But I promise you that she's not going to make us go home. She knows how much fun we're going to have and how great it's going to be. She wants to have fun too."

She had a feeling that he wasn't just talking about camping.

Rachel took a deep breath and pasted on a bright smile, "Hey guys," she forced herself to sound cheerfully, "What's going on here?"

Puck put his hand on the top of Eli's head as she came to stand beside them, both boys watching her carefully. She tried to keep her smile in place, even as it faltered and she wanted to cringe at the dark spots on the tent flaps that she suspected were the beginnings of mold. She took in the paper thin mattresses they would be sleeping on and eyed the dusty sleeping bags – she didn't even want to know the last time they'd been washed.

"D-do you like it, Rach?" Eli asked tentatively.

"No," she answered automatically, unthinkingly.

"Oh." His voice was very small.

She realized her error immediately and dropped to her knees in front of him. "I don't like it," she told him seriously, "I LOVE IT!"

Eli's full lips stretched into a wide smile, his eyes round and hopeful, "Really?"

Rachel nodded earnestly and Puck grinned at her proudly as Eli flung himself into her arms.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" the little boy squealed happily as he hugged her tight. "Me and Puck are gonna go fishing this afternoon, do ya wanna come?"

She couldn't help the way her nose wrinkled at the offer and Puck barked out a laugh. She glowered at him before turning her attention back to her brother. "Thank you for the offer Pumpkin, but I think fishing is a boys only activity. I'm planning on taking a walk around the lake instead and when you get back we'll have a swim before dinner. Is that alright?"

Eli nodded and tugged on Puck's hand, "Can we go now Puck? I wanna catch some fishies."

"Sure Bud," he replied. "I've just got to get our stuff ready so why don't you play with Hank for a little while and I'll call you when we're ready to go, ok?"

Eli ran off happily, picking up a stick and throwing it for Hank to retrieve.

Puck watched him settle into the game not too far away, and after he was confident Eli wouldn't run into any trouble if they left him unattended for the next few minutes, he turned his attention back to Rachel.

She was still grimacing at the inside of the tent, her face contorting with disgust as she toed one of the sleeping bags he'd unrolled and a small cloud of dust was released as a result. A second later a small spider scurried from in between the folds and Rachel shrieked, launching herself into his arms and climbing his body like a tree as she hooked her legs around his waist so her feet weren't touching the ground.

"I can't do it, Noah! I don't care what you say; I'm not sleeping in that- that thing!" Rachel spat, practically hysterical.

He laughed at her and she slapped his shoulder before wrapping her arms around his torso, her terrified gaze fixed on the small eight legged creature as it hurried out of the tent and out into the wilderness.

"It's gone now, it's not going to hurt you."

She buried her face into his neck and he felt her take in a deep, shuddering breath. "I hate spiders," she said in a small voice.

He rubbed her back soothingly, still grinning. Sometimes, Rachel Berry was just _adorable._

"Don't worry Rach, I'll protect you from the big, bad hairy spider, I promise."

Her head shot up, "You're mocking me!" she accused.

He didn't deny it.

She glared at him, mumbling something about 'common rational fears' as she wriggled in his embrace, trying to set her feet back on the ground. Puck was having far too much fun to let her go, so he held her in place, his hands slipping to cup her ass. "Oh yeah, babe. Just a little lower."

Rachel heard the suggestiveness in his tone and immediately ceased her movements. Her eyes rose to meet his and he quirked his eyebrow in a silent challenge. All the wriggling had only caused her to slide down his body, bringing their pelvis' almost in direct contact.

They held each other's gaze for a full minute, a heated awareness sizzling between them, before he smirked, momentarily letting go of her ass and allowing her to drop another few inches before he caught her again, in exactly the position he wanted her.

"Noah!" she exclaimed. Whatever she had been planning to say after that, died on her lips as she felt her center press against his crotch. Through the thin cotton of their clothes she could feel the definite outline of his cock and she blushed, her efforts to detangle herself from him becoming more earnest.

"You're not helping," he said teasingly, and he was right. Her eyes widened as she felt him twitch against her.

"Noah," she said again, though this time her protest was weak. He noted the look of resigned expectancy on her face, like she knew what was going to happen and he was sure she wouldn't fight him.

"Yeah?" he rubbed his nose against hers before slowly brushing her lips in a barely there kiss; testing her, gauging her reaction.

When he pulled back to look at her, he couldn't define the look in her eyes.

Rachel stared at him, her lips tingling from where they had touched his. Her mind began to whirl in that way she was growing accustomed to whenever he was in close proximity, and suddenly her thoughts were a jumble of images of both Finn and Noah. She couldn't forget the phone call to her fiancée last night and the voice of a woman in the background, or standing with Noah on his mother's porch, his warm body pressing against her as he promised he could stoke that fire in her belly and take her to heights of pleasure she was sure she didn't know even existed.

Her eyes dropped back to his lips, impossibly soft and utterly tempting. She'd already decided that his mouth was her undoing.

He licked his lips as he noted where her attention was fixed and stared right back at her. When he let out a husky, "Rach…." she promptly forgot all the reasons why she was supposed to be resisting him.

_Finn?_ It was frighteningly easy to dismiss the man she was supposedly going to spend the rest of her life with. Truthfully, he rarely infiltrated her thoughts anyway and besides, Finn was bedding another woman.

_Eli?_ Eli adored Noah. The little boy's face was alight with happiness the entire time he spent in the company of Noah and his beloved dog. Noah was his _father_. Providing they could initially keep what was happening between them away from Eli, so as not to confuse him, he wasn't a viable excuse.

_Her desperate need to be in control_? She hadn't been in control since the second she'd met this man and despite one or two minor hiccups, she was relatively unscathed and the world had yet to end.

_The fact that he couldn't promise her foreve_r? Well, yes. That was probably the greatest cause for hesitation but she hadn't always been so fixated on her future, not in regards to her personal life anyway. Couldn't she just enjoy him, for as long as she could? They were adults. Mature, sensible (for the most part) adults. There was no conceivable reason why they couldn't just give into the sexual attraction that simmered between them. She had told him she wasn't the type of woman to have flings, that she couldn't embark on an affair for the sexual gratification alone, that she needed something tangible and real.

The heat between them was very real.

And hadn't Noah himself speculated on a future together the night before? He had voiced it out loud, the supposition that they could be happy together, and she had discounted his suggestion.

She was cursing her stupidity. How could she have dismissed him so readily? Something amazing was already blooming; she just had to believe that it was worth the risk.

Rachel couldn't ignore the way her pulse leapt every time Noah looked at her, a reaction she'd never had with Finn, and she'd be lying if she didn't admit that she hadn't been thinking constantly about the offer he had extended the night before. Two weeks, he's said. He wanted to be with her while she was in Lima, to remind her of what it felt like to be with someone who excited her, who challenged her and forced her to examine her feelings.

Two weeks to start with anyway.

She knew how he made her feel; she suspected that amazingly, he was equally as enamoured with her most of the time. If she took a chance on him and the next two weeks went well, would he take a chance on her and actively pursue something serious?

She thought he might.

Suddenly, she remembered the girl she used to be; Fearless, passionate, _trusting. _Life had taken that from her and she was so desperate to feel again that she let go and listened to her heart for the split second it took for her to make her decision. She hoped he wouldn't give her cause to regret it.

"Noah," she started quietly, her arms tightening around his shoulders.

"Yeah, babe." His voice had that rough quality to it that made her stomach flip.

She leant in slowly, "I'm about to do something completely irrational," she said softly, her eyes fluttering shut. "Just stay still."

She caught him completely off guard, and she took advantage of his momentary stupor to nibble lightly on his bottom lip and set her own pace. His lips parted automatically to her silent plea, granting entrance to her tongue and she took her time exploring the contours of his mouth, fisting his t-shirt and pressing more firmly against him. He buried his fingers in her hair that was tightly wound into a plait, tugging gently on the strands as she moved her lips over his like she'd be doing it her whole life.

Her legs tightened around his waist and she shifted, the movement inadvertently causing her to grind against him. There was a single, sharp intake of breath and then he moaned.

His moan was what had her returning to her senses and she pulled back, running her thumb over his bottom lip and wiping away the lip gloss that had transferred from her lips to his.

Rachel waited for the inevitable moment when she would panic and berate herself for her actions but all she felt was the warmth of her blood rushing through her veins and the skip of her heartbeat as she gazed at his face.

Puck's eyes were still closed tightly and she smiled, "Noah,"

"Shhh," he grumbled, his forehead creasing. "Don't wake me up, I think I'm dreaming."

Rachel giggled and pushed at his chest. Reluctantly, he let her go.

As she dropped to her feet and stood back, straightening her blouse and swiping the strands of hair that had escaped her plait into place, he shoved his hands in his pockets and grinned.

"Not that I'm complaining, but what was that?"

Rachel lifted her shoulder and smiled back, innocently. He made her feel light hearted. At that very moment she was happier than she could remember being in years, the blessing that was Eli aside; she didn't want to risk letting go of her euphoria just yet.

"What was what?" she asked flippantly, not waiting for an answer as she turned her head towards Eli. Her gaze found him on the ground, laughing as Hank slobbered all over him. Her smile widened and she stepped forward, looping her arm through Puck's.

"Come on, Noah. You have fish to catch and I have a date with a shady tree and my 'lady porn' as you take great pleasure in describing my reading material."

"Rach-" He stopped, forcing her to halt with him. "Do you think maybe we should talk about-"

"No," she shook her head, "It's a beautiful day Noah, let's not spoil it. To use an expression you may be familiar with, I think today is about just going with the flow." Rachel gazed up at him, her dark eyes sparkling. He had a look of confusion on his face and she couldn't fault him for it. She was surprised at her own behavior herself.

"Go with the flow," he was repeating skeptically, eyeing her with something akin to suspicion. Sometime in the last 5 minutes, Rachel Berry had undergone a rapid personality transplant. Spontaneous kisses, warm smiles…he was understandably stunned.

"Is that alright?" She tugged on the ends of her hair, and a look of anxiousness came over her features as she waited for his answer. She wasn't used to feeling so carefree, and already her impulsiveness was waning and the first seeds of doubt were creeping in.

Puck saw her blink twice and he knew whatever spell had been cast over her in the last few minutes was fading. His face cleared and he grinned, dropping a quick kiss on her nose he nodded.

"No problems Berry, let's play it your way."

She brightened and they continued towards Eli. When they got within a few feet of where he and Hank were playing, Rachel let go of Puck's arm and scooped the little boy up, raining kisses all over his face, mindless of his laughing shrieks of protest.

"Help me Puck! Help me!" Eli cried through his giggles while Puck stood by chuckling. Rachel smacked one last kiss on his cheek and set him down, pouting when Eli wiped his face.

"Alright boys, grab your fishing rods and off you go," she dismissed, still smiling, with a wave of her hand. "I've packed you drinks and snacks in the cooler. Try and be back by 4."

They nodded obediently and it was Eli's turn to pull on Puck's hand, steering him towards the truck where their gear was stored. Puck allowed the boy to lead him away, though his eyes were still following the brunette back at the campsite who was singing with abandon what sounded like a show tune as she rummaged around in her bag for her book.

Puck felt a surge of contentment course through him as he watched her graceful movements, his son chattered on animatedly beside him as they walked. He figured this is what it was like, having a family. He'd be willing to bet that this camping trip would shape up to be the best idea he'd ever had.

***/***

Puck and Eli returned from their fishing trip triumphant, elated at the rainbow trout and cod they had caught, and the trio spent the remainder of the afternoon swimming and laying out by the dock. Rachel had, to Puck's delight, packed her red bikini and she pretended not to notice the way he blatantly ogled her body as they watched Eli wander along the shore nearby, picking up rocks and trying to skim them along the water as Puck had taught him.

Her body was insane, Puck thought to himself as he not so discretely checked out her long, tanned legs and her toned stomach. Her boobs were small, but like the rest of her - fucking perfect - and his fingers were itching to untie the string that held her suit in place and watch the material fall away, spilling her breasts to his hungry gaze. His eyes were hidden behind the aviators he favored, but they offered her no protection from the heat of his gaze.

She shifted slightly, "You're staring again," she admonished, not for the first time since he'd rowed the boat to shore and immediately let out an approving whistle when he'd seen what she'd been wearing.

"Can you blame me?" He retorted with a smirk, "Your tits are fucking perfection in that thing and red is my favorite color."

She smiled slightly, turning her head slightly to look at him, "Is it really?"

"Is now." she tipped her head back and laughed and he grinned back at her.

Rachel bumped her shoulder against his and glanced out over the lake. They were getting better at the friendly banter and she found herself relaxing more and more in his company.

"So, camping? You still hate it?" Puck asked, settling back on his elbows.

"No, it's quite pleasant." she admitted, "But I haven't had to sleep in that smelly tent yet." she added, "I might change my mind come morning."

"It'll be aired out by now," he assured her. "And you can use my sleeping bag - it's been cleaned at least once in the last couple of years which is more that I can say for the one's Mike leant us."

"Thank you," she accepted sweetly, "That's very chivalrous of you, Noah."

Rachel shooed a fly from her face before asking, "How long have you known Mike? You two seem close."

Puck shrugged, "All my life. Mike and our friend Matt have known each other since kindergarten. Matt's engaged to Mike's cousin Tina, who also went to school with us."

"That must be nice, having a group of friends that go back so many years."

"It's a pain in the ass more like it," he contradicted. "Sucks that they know every fucking thing about me, and they never let me forget any of it either."

She giggled, "Well from the little bits you've told me, it seems you gave them plenty of material to torment you with. Cougars, cheerleaders, slushie facials..."

He smirked at her, "Bad ass mother fucker," he agreed proudly, "But fuck, they can't remember the legendary stuff, like how I was the only dude that Santana and Brittany ever let join their special 'girl time'. No, they've always got to bring up the embarrassing stuff, like Suzy Pepper plastering my picture over the health clinic downtown claiming I was an STD risk."

She let that slide. "Oh Lord," she groaned. "Who are Santana and Brittany and what is 'special girl time' or do I not want to know?"

She didn't want to know but he told her anyway. Rachel wasn't sure whether she should laugh or roll her eyes at what was obviously the highlight of his teenage escapades. She did both.

"And all of you still get together regularly to catch up?"

Puck nodded, "Once every couple of weeks. San and Britt got hitched not long ago, they're spending the summer in the Greek Islands but they'll be back by the end of August." It was on the tip of his tongue to say that he couldn't wait for her to meet them, because he had a feeling she and Santana would either love or hate each other on sight, and frankly he was curious to find out which one it would be.

He caught himself just in time. She wouldn't be here in August and although they still hadn't hashed out how they would work Eli's visits, he figured once she was back in Long Island the opportunities for her to meet the rest of his friends would be limited. He didn't want to listen to the ticking of his internal clock that was telling him that in no time at all he'd be standing at the end of his driveway seeing them off as Eli and Rachel left for their own home. The thought sucked, hardcore. They were such a huge part of his life already; he just didn't know how he was going to cope when they were gone.

"I wish I had had lifelong friends like that," Rachel was saying wistfully.

"You don't keep in contact with your school buddies or anything?" he asked curiously, pushing all thoughts of impending departures out of his mind.

She shook her head. 'I was somewhat of an outcast at school, people considered me too high strung and tense-"

"No?" he feigned surprise and she elbowed him good naturedly.

"Shockingly, yes." She rose an eyebrow at him. "You and your Neanderthal friends probably would have taking great pleasure in throwing those slushies drinks at me," she predicted lightly.

"Probably," he admitted, earning himself another jab in the ribs. "But I would have only done it on the days you were wearing white shirts. The slushies would have totally made your shirt see through and you know I dig your choice in lingerie." He winked roguishly, remembering the first day they met. Wet, white silk and purple lace bras were going to become a regular fixture on his rotation, he knew it.

Rachel surprised him by giggling, "Why do I have a suspicion that you'd have been unbearable with your ice drink torture?" she teased.

He chuckled as well. "You got my number, babe. So, you were Berry-no-friends, huh?" he pressed.

She frowned, "No, I had a few friends in my glee club, but we were all so alike. We were all so fiercely ambitious and focused on our careers that we didn't really prioritize our friendships. We lost contact over the years, especially when I quit the theatre and we didn't have anything in common anymore. I suppose Quinn is my oldest friend. We've been best friends for 10 years."

Puck felt bad when he saw Rachel smile to herself as she mentioned her blonde friend, the friend that was probably at that moment engaging is some decidedly un-PG acts with the fiancée she was so determined to hang onto.

Which prompted the question, "How long have you known Finn?"

She looked at him sharply and he remained impassive, giving nothing of what he was thinking away.

"A few years now," she replied after a moment, when she was sure he wasn't going to say something offensive or sarcastic. "He and Quinn dated back in high school and they ran into each other one day in the Supermarket, Eli was still a baby. The three of us used to spend time together before Finn and I started dating," she paused and laughed. "I suppose nothing really changed after we did."

"Whoa, back up." he held up his hand. "Finn and Quinn used to date?"

Rachel nodded, "It was all rather cliché. He was the Quarterback; she was the head cheerleader..."

"How long were they together?" Puck was probably more stunned by this revelation than he should be.

"Three years I think? They broke up when Finn went to Michigan for College."

"That's a long time," he mumbled.

"I suppose, but it was high school." She shrugged. "They were young."

"Hmmm," he mused distractedly. That kind of made sense. It had been clear to him from the start that Quinn, while adamant that Rachel and Finn were all wrong for each other, thought a lot of the likeable, if not overly intelligent man. She'd been crushing on him since high school.

It was almost cute, Puck supposed. Well it would be if Rachel wasn't the person to complete that awkward triangle and was going to be the one who ended up hurt because of it. He was shaken out of his musings by Rachel standing and bending back down to retrieve her towel.

"We should start dinner preparations, Noah. You promised Eli a s'mores tutorial after dinner and he'll be ready for bed soon after." Rachel pulled her hair into a messy bun and stepped into her flip flops as Puck followed suit.

"Bed? It's like 5pm." He protested in dismay as they strolled back towards the campsite. Eli ran up to them then, yawning as he wrapped his hand around Rachel's.

She gave Puck a pointed look when they were faced with Eli's obvious fatigue, "I didn't say _we_ had to go to bed as well."

He liked the way she said that.

He brushed his fingers over her arm as they walked, "Well what is there for mommies and daddies to do when the kids are all tucked up in bed?" he asked suggestively with a playful leer.

"Well, I saw that you brought your guitar with you. I thought maybe you could play for me." Her refusal to comment on his innuendo left him disappointed for a split second until he remembered that she was a self confessed musical theatre geek. Rachel lived for music and Puck knew he had mad guitar skills and a voice she had already confessed had pleasantly surprised her. He could totally serenade her by the campfire; mood lighting, one of those love songs chicks went ape shit for….he was practically _guaranteed_ a bit of boob action.

His night was set.

***/***

Puck continued to let his fingers pluck at the strings as he watched the firelight dance over her face. They had eaten a dinner of grilled fish and salad, and, after he had taught them how to make the perfect s'more, they had put Eli to bed.

Later, he had retrieved his guitar and proceeded to spend the next hour playing any song she requested that was in his repertoire. Rachel looked content, leaning back against the fallen log as she gazed into the fire, listening intently as he played for her. She mostly hummed along but every now and then she'd sing softly along with a chorus, as if she just couldn't help herself. Finally, he had enough; yeah he loved to look at her, but fuck that noise when he was about 80 percent sure she was down with a bit of groping. Puck set aside his guitar carefully and curled his fingers around her wrist.

Rachel looked up, startled by his unexpected touch.

"Come here," he requested with a gentle tug on her hand.

Her eyebrow rose and she carefully set down her mug. "Noah?" she questioned unsurely.

He tugged again and she rose on her knees, kneeling beside him. He grabbed her bare leg and swung it over his lap so she was straddling his thighs, her hands coming to rest on his shoulders.

"What am I doing here?" she asked shyly.

The way she nervously worried her bottom lip as she looked at him with soft brown eyes had him groaning. He brushed back the hair from her face and cupped her neck, pulling her down to his lips.

"Well you can start by picking up where you left off this morning," he said gruffly against her mouth, "then you can tell me what the hell it was all about. And none of that 'go with the flow' stuff. Shit just isn't you."

She complied, kissing him sweetly before leaning back, one of her small hands sliding down his chest to fiddle with the button on his plaid shirt. "You've been fiercely advocating the 'life has to hold surprises' outlook since I met you, Noah. I was merely doing my bit to ensure you were sufficiently taken aback once in a while yourself. "

"Right," he said dryly, running his fingers through the ends of her hair. "Like I said earlier, I'm not complaining, but what's changed? Because last night you told me, pretty brutally, that you were still marrying Finn and that I didn't have a chance in hell with you. Way to send a dude mixed messages, Rach."

She looked at him from beneath her eyelashes, trying to determine whether he was angry at her. He didn't look angry.

"I also told you," she said, quieter now, "that you'd given me a lot to think about."

"Are you?" he wanted to know, "thinking about it?"

She nodded and he felt his heart pound in his chest. She was coming around faster than he would have thought.

"I'm afraid."

"Of me?" He asked in surprise.

She stared down at her hand on his shoulders, her fingers playing with the collar of his shirt. "Yes, no - I'm not quite sure." she admitted quietly. Her eyes flicked up to meet his, "I think I want to be with you, Noah, for as long as I'm here. But-"

"No buts," he interrupted, pulling her down to his chest and bringing her in for a lengthy kiss.

Her lips quirked against his and she allowed him to distract her for several, blissful minutes.

"You're so good at that," she laughed breathlessly when they parted.

"Kissing?" he queried as his hand dipped under the back of the sweater she'd pulled on when the sun had gone down and the night had gotten cooler.

"Driving every thought from my mind." she corrected.

He snorted, "Babe, trust me when I say that there are _hundreds_ of things I can do to you that will make you forget your own fucking name."

She swallowed heavily as his gaze burned into hers. "I have no doubt," she managed.

Puck smirked, "And you want me to do those things to you, don't you?" he murmured letting his other hand slide up the outside of her silken thigh to rest at the edge of her denim shorts. There, his fingers dipped under the hem to draw lazy circles on her skin.

She didn't answer she just fixed him with a slightly anxious, contemplative look.

"Did you mean it Noah? Can I trust you?" All the teasing that had been present in her tone all afternoon was gone and there was that flash of vulnerability that had him gathering her close and pressing reassuring kisses to her temple.

"Yeah, Rach. You can trust me."

"Well, then I think-" She pursed her lips, her brow creasing as she seemed to struggle with something. He waited patiently, stroking his thumb over her hipbone.

"I think I want to explore-" she hesitated, "this. Whatever's happening between us."

"Fina-fucking-lly," he exclaimed, tilting her chin.

She didn't hesitate, meeting his mouth, her lips parting eagerly and her tongue stroking his in a gentle caress. It was passionate and hungry, but at the same time teasing and slow. It wasn't the kiss of two people driven crazy with lust, but one of burning, barely contained passion.

He kissed her until she was breathless and panting, then his mouth fell to her throat, nipping gently with his teeth, careful to leave no marks on her soft, perfect skin. His tongue traced up the side of her neck and then over the outline of her ear and she melted against him with a small whimper.

He stroked her cheek as he claimed her lips once more, unable to get enough of her as he swept the insides of her mouth, tasting the sweetness that was all her. Slowly his hand slid under her sweater to caress her breast, fervently thankful for the fact that she was not wearing a bra as he felt the rock hardness of her nipples through the thin fabric of her tank top. Her hands moved between their bodies and she broke their kiss, holding his gaze as she pulled on the hem of her sweater and tugged it up and over her head.

She smiled shyly at him and drew his hand back to her breast. He needed no further instruction and squeezed gently, cupping her breast and caressing the erect bud with his palm. She sighed deeply into his mouth pulling away from him ever so slightly as she pushed her chest to his hand to increase the pressure. His kisses trailed down to her shoulder and he slowly reached up and hooked a finger in the shoulder strap of the tank top. As he pulled it down, Rachel obligingly slid her arm up and out of the strap. With her breast now from its cotton prison, she gasped as Puck's hot mouth descended over her taut, puckered peak.

Vaguely, he thought he heard something that was out of place amongst the crackling of the wood fire and Rachel's breathy little moans as he lavished attention on her breast, licking and nipping lightly. A second later she was pushing him away, forcing him to stop.

He tried to grab for her as she practically leapt to her feet, fixing her tank top, distress written all over her face. "Rachel! What did I-"

"It's Eli," she said urgently, taking off towards the tent, and it was then that Puck heard the sound again and recognised it for what it was. Eli was sobbing and Hank was sitting outside the tent, whining pitifully.

Puck wasted no time in following, crawling into the tent a split second after Rachel, seeing Eli sweating and crying in his sleep. She gathered the little boy in her arms, rocking him and brushing the damp hair from his face.

"Eli," she shook him gently, "Wake up Pumpkin, it's just a dream," she crooned in a voice Puck had never heard her use before.

"Rachel!" Eli cried her name, his body jerking as his eyes flew open.

"Shhhh baby, it's alright, I'm here." She pressed her lips to his forehead, caressing his cheek as she continued to rock him. "It was just a dream, you're safe I promise."

He was sobbing brokenly, his face pressed against her chest.

"Rachel, what the hell?" was all Puck could manage as he took in the two of them, his eyes wide and pained. He couldn't stand the sound of Eli's sobs or the look of anguish on Rachel's face.

"Nightmare," she supplied, strained.

"You said that he didn't have them very often." He said stupidly, sitting on his hunches, clueless to what he should be doing. "Only when he was-"

"Unsettled," She finished for him. "It's been a big week for him,"

He watched his son burrowed further into Rachel's body, if that was even possible, still crying as she held him tighter.

"Did I do this?" Puck asked numbly. It had been a huge week. He'd shown up on the kid's doorstep and driven him hours and hours away from home. He'd been living in a strange motel and been subjected to his crazy Jew mom. No wonder the poor kid was feeling out of sorts.

"No, Noah. You didn't do anything," Rachel took a few precious seconds to reassure him before focusing on calming down her brother.

"Shhh Pumpkin, you're alright." She repeated over and over again for what seemed like hours until finally the little boy's crying scaled back to ragged breathing and wet sniffles.

"Rachel."

"I'm here, baby,"

He reached up and touched her face and she covered his hand and kissed his palm.

"I thought you were dead,"

Puck's blood ran cold at his son's tearful statement.

"The lights-"

"It was just a dream sweetheart," Rachel cut in hurriedly, "Just a dream. I'm right here. We're ok."

Eli nodded, sniffling. "You're ok?"

"I'm ok," she confirmed. She twisted and laid down on the sleeping bag, still cradling Eli to her chest, rubbing his back and kissing his brow.

"Sing," Eli requested quietly, a demand Puck had heard him make on more than one occasion now. "Sing Dumbo."

Rachel immediately started humming, reaching blindly for the edge of the light weight sleeping bag and drawing it over the small boy's frame. Puck leant over and helped her tuck it in tight and she smiled distractedly at him.

_Baby mine, don't you cry  
Baby mine, dry your __eyes  
Rest your head close to my heart  
Never to part, baby of mine_

_Little one when you play  
Don't you mind what they say  
Let those eyes sparkle and shine  
Never a tear, baby of mine_

He watched her face as she sang softly, her eyes fixed on Eli's distressed ones. She continued to stroke his cheek and after a while he saw the little boy's body go pliant, the tension easing as he relaxed under Rachel's touch.

_If they knew sweet little you  
They'd end up loving you too  
All those same people who scold you  
What they'd give just for  
The right to hold you_Eli's eyes fluttered as if they meaned to shut, but he stubbornly refused to be lured into the sleep Rachel's voice was coaxing.

_From your head to your toes  
You're not much, goodness knows  
But you're so precious to__ me  
Cute as can be, baby of mine_

When the song came to an end, Eli was sucking his thumb, the tears still rolling down his face. Rachel sighed quietly, pressing her lips against his forehead.

"See baby, you're safe. I'm here, Puck's here…"

"Puck?" Eli said around his thumb, his head lifting. Rachel looked up at Puck who hadn't moved and held out her hand. He took it automatically and she pulled him closer. Taking the hint, he settled on the other side of Eli, his son's back against his chest.

He wrapped his strong arm around the boy, his knuckles brushing Rachel's stomach, and kissed the top of his head. "I'm here buddy,"

Hank chose that moment to stick his head in between Rachel and Eli and lick the boy's face. Rachel laughed and pushed Hank away half heartedly.

"Evidently Hank wants you to know he's with us also."

Eli didn't respond which spoke volumes of his emotional state at that moment since he was in love with the dog.

The three (four) of them lay in silence, Eli's uneven breathing the only sound reverberating around the tent.

"Go to sleep pumpkin, we'll be here when you wake up." Rachel said softly.

"I don't want to." Eli's breath hitched like he was going to cry again and Rachel rushed to soothe him.

"Ok, ok baby. Shhh." She started humming and then started to sing 'Dumbo' again, quieter this time, and after she had repeated the song in its entirety three times, Eli had fallen into a fitful sleep again.

Rachel exhaled heavily and Puck rose on one elbow to look down at her, struggling to make out her features in the darkness. "Are _you_ ok, babe?"

"Yes," she replied simply. "I just hate seeing him like this. I know it's still early but I'm going to turn in for the night. He needs me here."

He nodded, running his hand over her bare arm.

"I'm just going to put water on the fire and I'll be back."

"Alright."

He leaned down and kissed her cheek, then Eli's before he crawled out of the tent again. Ten minutes later, he was back; slightly sooty and smelling of smoke.

He toed off his shoes and zipped the tent after him, stopping as he saw Hank lying on top of his designated sleeping bag, right beside Eli.

"Hank, get off." He ordered gruffly, not in the mood to plead and cajole with his dog right then. Hank didn't even lift his head. Puck growled impatiently and Rachel shifted closer to Eli.

"Just sleep over here, Noah. There's room."

She was actually laying half on Eli's mattress and half on hers, so Puck took up her invitation and shifted in beside her. He unzipped her sleeping bag and covered them both with it, turning on his side and spooning her, his hand resting on Eli's back.

"Is this ok?" He asked quietly.

"More than okay," she said just as softly. He kissed her shoulder and closed his eyes, realizing just how tired he was, despite the fact that it was just barely nine o'clock.

"Was his nightmare about the accident? Is that why he thought you were dead?"

He felt her nod, "He was so little, and Shelby and I share so many physical similarities, he gets confused," she whispered. "He remembers the blood and it scares him."

Puck's stomach turned. "Does he remember Shelby at all?"

Rachel shook her head. "Not really. I have pictures in the apartment and he knows she was his mother, but it's hard to miss something you never had. I try to talk about her, keep her memory alive, but as I said, he gets confused." He thought he might have heard something like guilt in her tone and his arm tightened, hugging her and Eli close to him.

"He's young, Rach. There's plenty of time to tell him about her when he's older. Right now, it's a good thing he doesn't miss her. That just means you doing a kick ass job with the mommy stuff. You're not giving him a reason to think he's missing out."

She's quiet for a while and Puck had to wonder whether he's said something wrong until she said his name quietly, "Noah, do you think we'll be able to do this? Raise Eli together? Because we haven't really discussed it and we need to talk about it and make some decisions before the end of this trip. I hate that he doesn't have a conventional family unit and I don't want to do anything that makes it worse for him."

"Rachel," she felt him lean over her and she rolled over onto her back, feeling his breath against her cheek as he hovered over her. His fingers touched her face in the dark. "We can absolutely do this. It's not going to be smooth sailing, especially in the beginning but I told you I think you're doing a great job with him. I want to be his dad, I want you to show me how I'm supposed to do this parent thing. We love him, right?"

Rachel nodded emphatically, her hair brushing his chin.

"Then he's going to be fine. Conventional family unit or whatever. We're not going to screw him up, I promise."

She exhaled loudly.

"And this is what this trip is all about, right? Us spending time as a family?" he reasoned.

She scoffed, "I thought this trip was about you putting me in situations you know I'll be uncomfortable with, for your own amusement. I'm sleeping in a moldy tent for heaven's sake."

Puck snorted, nudging her so she rolled back onto her side and gathered Eli close to her again, Puck's body curling around both of them as his arms came around them.

"No, that's just an added bonus."

"You're so mean to me." She nuzzled her face into Eli's soft locks, her fingers entwining with Puck's as their joined hands rested together on Eli's back.

"And why would I want to be mean to you when I could be very, very nice to you instead?" He teased, kissing her ear.

"Go to sleep, Noah." She replied wryly.

He chuckled, "K, night babe."

"Goodnight, Noah."

Hank let out a loud snore.

"Goodnight, Hank." Rachel whispered and Puck grinned.

There was hope for her yet.

* * *

**_A/N 2: Guess what? There's 2 and a half chapters to go! I'm sad. Are you sad? Let's all be sad...haha._**

**_So we're approaching the end and yes, Puck and Rachel are heading to bed...together. They only get one shot at it folks (for whatever reason), so what's it going to be? Hard and Fast or Slow and Sensual? Go to my Author's profile to vote! It's like a Puckleberry choose your own adventure!_**

**_Thanks for reading my lovelies :)_**


	12. Of Mud Bogs and Garbage Cans

_**A/N: This chapter is for another awesome Aussie Gleek – Tashah04 (as she is known on Twitter), for no other reason than because she is awesome. She and GoingVintage floated the idea of Hank stealing Rachel's panties a while back. Since they're both dog lovers, the Hank antics in this chapter belong to them :)**_

* * *

Rachel and Puck had little time alone the next day to discuss, let alone explore, what was blooming between them. Eli, still shaken from his nightmare the night before, was uncharacteristically clingy, not letting Rachel out of his sight or venturing more than a few feet away from her the entire day.

Any hope of some privacy later when the little boy had gone to bed was dashed by the late afternoon arrival of a large, boisterous Texan family who staked out their own campsite on the other side of the small clearing and seemed to have no qualms about what they may or may not be interrupting, as they continually popped over to their neighbors to chat.

Puck fumed at the 'invasion' as he called it, resentful that his time with his son was intruded upon by the tourists who apparently felt the need to shadow every one of their activities, all day. And clearly, their presence meant any hope of re-enacting the previous nights make out session by the fire was dashed.

Rachel, horrified by Puck's deliberate rudeness, tried to overcompensate by remaining polite and accepting of the other family's overtures of friendship. But, after Papa Texas poked his head in their tent without announcing himself, just as Rachel was changing, even she was finding it difficult to maintain a pleasant demeanour.

Puck had been throwing a football around with Eli at the time and had been irate when he learned of the eyeful the other man had received from a horrified Rachel, especially since he seemed determined to give Puck a thumbs up whenever he caught his eye, indicating he thought Puck had done well for himself in the hot girlfriend stakes. It had taken several minutes of placating on Rachel's part, in addition to the promise of a lengthy goodnight kiss (with tongue), for him not to march over there and erase the sight of her naked breasts from the guy's mind with his fists.

On the third morning, when they'd woken up at 6am to the Texan's rambunctious laughter, Puck and Rachel decided it was time for the camping trip to come to a premature end. Puck took Eli down to the lake for a final swim after breakfast while Rachel attempted to avoid contact with their neighbors as she cleared up their breakfast dishes and started packing their belongings back in the truck, ready for a quick getaway – leaving the camping equipment and heavy coolers for Puck to load before their departure.

When father and son returned from their swim they found Rachel scowling at a cowering Hank who was shying away from her, a wad of black material hanging from his mouth.

"What's up, Rach?" Puck asked cautiously as they walked over, noting the return of the school ma'am expression on her features. She had been so relaxed and carefree these last couple of days, that seeing the familiar ice queen look firmly in place had his gut clenching with dread.

Rachel didn't spare him a glance as she stood with her hands on her hips, her foot tapping. "Hank has something of mine and he's refusing to give it back." She replied haughtily, still bestowing the look of death on his dog.

"What?" Puck asked, stepping forward to see what it was that Hank was so determined to hang onto. Rachel yanked him back and he took in her suddenly flushed cheeks with interest.

"Well?" he prompted, his eyebrow arching.

"He has my..." she paused, her eyes shifting away from his, "panties." She finished at a whisper.

He stared at her and then burst into laughter, bending over and slapping his knee with mirth. "How in the hell did a dog end up with your underwear?"

"I had hand washed them and hung them out to dry on a makeshift close line between the truck and the picnic table," she explained uncomfortably. "He must have waited until my back was turned and then he stole them."

Puck's laughter had begun to die down, but it bubbled to the surface again at the thought of Hank lying low in wait until Rachel was distracted, just so he could lift her panties.

Rachel glared at him and crossed her arms and he tried to look apologetic as she pursed her lips.

"S-sorry." He managed, still laughing. "H-hank, give Rachel b-back her…." he spluttered, "p-panties."

Rachel sighed in exasperation, "You're no help at all." She told him crossly, once again moving towards Hank who immediately backed away, drool falling from the side of his mouth.

"Oh, no! Hank!" she moaned in disgust. "Noah, please do something."

Eli looked between the adults in confusion before approached his canine friend. "Whatcha got there Hank? Can I see?" he asked innocently, holding out his small hand. Hank obediently dropped the item into Eli's palm as Rachel gaped in disbelief. "I've been trying to get those back for the last fifteen minutes," she grumbled as she leant forward to retrieve her lost property.

Puck intercepted and plucked the black cloth from Eli's hand, "Lace, Rach?" he whistled appreciatively, twirling the damp material around his finger. "Nice."

She blushed and snatched them out of his grasp, "They're ruined." She remarked in dismay as she took in the holes from where Hank and bitten down when she had tried vainly to tug them away from him earlier.

Puck just shrugged, grabbing them back and stuffing them into the pocket of his swimming trunks with a grin, "S'ok, I'll buy you a new pair." He glanced at Eli who was patting Hank's head and lowered his voice, bending his head close to hers, "Or better yet, I _won't_ buy you a new pair. Think of all the fun we'll have as I demonstrate the benefits of you not wearing panties at all."

She lightly hit at his bare chest as his lips brushed against her ear, "You're incorrigible," she declared with a small smile.

"Yep," he agreed happily. "Now let's get dressed, pack our shit and get out of here before we have to listen to one more fucking rodeo story," he urged, glancing sideways at the Texans and slapping her lightly on her behind.

As Eli ducked into the tent in front of them, Puck reached in and pulled out his small duffel bag. The tent was in no way large enough for the three of them to change and he figured Rachel wouldn't feel comfortable undressing in front of him anyway. At least, not while there was a four year old around and he couldn't touch her like he knew they both wanted him too.

"You haven't told me what you have planned for this morning," Rachel commented as she watching him pull out a pair of faded jeans from his bag.

He paused and grinned, reaching for her hand and tugging her against him.

Puck kissed her thoroughly before letting her go, smirking and grasping her elbow to steady her as she stumbled slightly. "I don't want to give too much away, but what I have in mind is very, _very_ dirty." He declared throatily, watching in smug satisfaction as her blush deepened.

He laughed as she practically dove into the tent and, not caring if any of their Texan neighbors were watching, stripped off his wet shorts and pulled on a pair of boxers and his oldest, most threadbare jeans.

He had packed everything but the tent into his truck by the time a fresh faced Eli emerged from the tent, some ten minutes later. He gathered that Rachel had cleaned two days worth of dirt and camping grime off of him as best she could with her trusty baby wipes, judging from the howls of protest he'd heard coming from inside. She joined them just as Puck finished reattaching the small boat trailer to the truck and when he caught sight of her, he stopped in his tracks.

"Rach, what the hell are you wearing?" His eyes racked over the short, white denim skirt that barely covered her ass and displayed miles of tanned thigh, and the plain white cotton tank top that dipped into a low V, framing her cleavage in a way that made his mouth water.

"What do you mean?" She asked self consciously, pulling at the hem of her skirt.

"I told you that we're gonna get dirty. You're practically the picture of the Virgin Mary in all that white."

He didn't mean to sound so gruff and he didn't want her to think he thought her anything less than absolutely gorgeous in that get up, but she was in no way dressed for the day he had planned.

Her mouth dropped open and her lips formed a perfect O. "Dirty?"

"We're going mud bogging today," he explained patiently. "Your outfit is going to be completely ruined."

"Mud bogging?" she gaped. "Oh…_mud bogging_. I thought that you meant-" her mouth snapped shut and she averted her eyes.

He watched her jaw tighten and he replayed the conversation from earlier in his mind.

_**Shit.**_

He'd been flirting with her, teasing her, and she'd thought that what he had planned involved something of a sexual nature. He snuck another look at her attire. It didn't escape his attention that having reached that conclusion, she had dressed accordingly.

"You thought I meant a different kind of dirty, huh?" he figured, touching her arm. He frowned when she shrugged him off, picking up hers and Eli's bags and carrying them towards the truck without a word.

He'd embarrassed her.

"Rach," he took two quick steps and snagged her around the waist. "I'm sorry I didn't make things clear." He apologized sincerely, grasping her chin and forcing her to look at him.

"It's fine," she replied woodenly, desperately trying to escape his hold.

"No, it's not," he corrected, dipping his head and pressing his lips firmly against hers. She stopped struggling after a moment, but when he pulled back she still wouldn't meet his gaze.

"You look hot," he murmured, his hand trailing down her arm to squeeze her fingers. "I just don't want you yelling at me later when you have mud streaked all over your clothes. Don't you have anything else to wear?"

Rachel shook her head, smiling bravely. "This will be fine." She claimed, her eyes flicking over his face quickly. "You should pack the tent Noah, so we can get out of here."

"Hey," he held her hand more tightly as she went to walk away again. Puck waited until she finally looked at him before speaking. "I really am sorry."

She nodded and shrugged, her smile turning derisive. "It was silly-"

"Was not," he countered, "And now that I know you were actually considering it, you can bet I'm putting it on today's agenda." He winked, roguishly.

She allowed him to pull her in for another scorching kiss, before loud whistling and clapping had them parting. Puck glared towards the Texan's camp before sighing and looking down at her. "It's time to go." He stated firmly.

Rachel could only nod emphatically in agreement.

***/***

After leaving the campground, Puck drove 15 miles outside of town and turned onto a dirt road - much like the one he had taken when they'd gone on their little off road adventure on Long Island the week before. After they had driven a few more miles along the narrow track, the trail widened and eventually they reached a clearing and a large natural depression in the earth. A sea of mud, roughly the size of a football field, awaited them.

Puck turned his head and grinned as he saw both Rachel and Eli gazing through the windshield, their eyes as wide as saucers. Eli's expression was one of abstract longing and he began to bounce in his car seat, eager to be let out and set free to explore this muddy wonderland. Rachel's face though, reflected horror.

"This is what you mean by mud bogging?" She asked when she found her voice. "Noah, it's huge. We could probably _drown_."

He rolled his eyes and parked off to the side. "Nuh uh, it's pretty shallow. Are you ready Eli? Do you want to drive through it first?"

"YEAH!" the little boy crowed, and Puck grinned, jumping out to unhook the trailer before shifting the truck into four wheel drive and aiming for the middle of the bog.

"We're going to get stuck," Rachel predicted fearfully, clutching at the dash in preparation. "You'll never get us out again."

Puck scoffed, "We're not going to get stuck. Like I said, it's pretty shallow; Mike and I have done this a thousand times." The mud was crisscrossed with tire tracks and deep grooves, a clear indicator that countless people before them had come to take their turn at spinning wide wheelies through the area.

"Hang tight," Puck felt an acute sense of deja vu as Rachel shrieked, her knuckles turning white as she held on for dear life. As they plunged into the middle, the truck bounced violently and she tipped forward, grasping the side of Eli's car seat and Puck's leg for balance.

"I'm going to die," she moaned, digging her nails into his thigh as he slammed on the brake, letting the back end of the truck careen through the mud, Eli's excited whoops filling the cab of the truck. When they came to a shuddering stop, Puck shifted into reverse and glanced at her with a grin, "You're not going to die. You just gotta trust me babe."

She met his gaze and to her credit, she barely hesitated in replying, "I trust you."

He pecked her on the lips quickly before stomping on the gas, backing them quickly up the embankment before plunging in once more. This time, Rachel barely made a sound, though her grip on his thigh didn't ease. She was breathing in through her nose, her lips pressed tightly together as she forced herself to relax. She did trust him, and she felt completely comfortable with Noah behind the wheel, but her own four wheel driving adventure was weighing heavily on her mind and it was a struggle for her to share in the enjoyment Puck and Eli were so obviously deriving from their present activity.

Finally, ten heart stopping minutes later, Puck drove them out of the bog and parked off to the side.

Rachel let out a sigh of relief and closed her eyes, sinking back wearily into the seat. A second later she felt his hand on her cheek and she opened her eyes again to see him looking at her, half amused, half contrite.

"Were you really that freaked out?" He asked guiltily.

"It didn't exactly rate on my top 10 list of favorite moments," she conceded. "I think I'll pass next time, I don't think my heart can take it."

Something flickered in his hazel gaze and his expression turned thoughtful, "I think your heart can take a lot more than you give it credit for," he said seriously, his thumb stroking over her bottom lip.

"Noah-" she breathed, her head tipping to the side as she leant forward ever so slightly.

"I WANNA GET OUT!"

They both jumped at Eli's frustrated yell and laughed.

Puck freed Eli from his seat and, having been cooped up in the truck for far too long for his liking, the little boy made straight for the bog.

"You coming?" Puck asked her, itching to follow his son and Hank.

Rachel noted his barely contained excitement and shook her head. She smiled indulgently at him and waved him off, "You go, enjoy yourself."

Puck didn't bother trying to change her mind. Instead, he took off at a run, yelling (jokingly) that Eli better not be having any fun without him. Rachel retrieved a blanket from behind the seat and spread it out over a grassy slope, watching as Puck caught up to his son and squatted beside Eli at the edge of the mud. Smiling to herself, she picked up her trusty novel and thumbed to the page she had marked, leaving the boys to their fun as she submerged herself back into her 'impeccably researched' historical romance.

Eli was waiting expectantly at the edge for Puck to reach him and Puck, being somewhat of an expert in mud himself, wasted no time in taking off his son's shoes and rolling the pants of his expensive looking overalls up past his knees. He glanced up at Rachel who was once again engrossed in her book, before starting his latest father-son tutorial.

"Look," he said, showing Eli how to make a handprint. Then, he made a footprint with Hank's paw.

In no time at all, Eli had gotten the idea and was eagerly perched on his knees, pressing his palms into the mud as he cooed in delight. Puck took Eli's hand in his and together they strolled out into the bog, laughing deliriously as the black goo sucked at their toes.

"What on earth are you two doing?" They looked up to see Rachel standing at the edge, her hands perched on her hips.

"We're getting dirty," Puck stated obviously, "It's what boys do." he added teasingly.

"Ugh," she fixed him with her best 'I am not amused' look and he held in a chuckle. Watching her flit between frigid school-teacher-from-hell to normal, relaxed Rachel was quickly becoming one of his favorite pastimes. He enjoyed riling her up and waiting for the inevitable moment when her annoyance would win out over her cool aloofness and she'd give him a piece of her mind.

Not that she'd been acting neither cool nor aloof these past few days. His gaze lingered on her legs and he couldn't help but glance at his watch. As much as he loved sharing this with Eli, he was counting down the hours until he could have her to himself and prove just how far from frigid and cold she actually was.

"Come on in." he invited, beckoning her with a crooked finger.

"Never," she answered adamantly. "Do you know how many germs would be festering in there? I've read about germs burrowing into the bottom of children's feet, so I really think-"

"Rachel," he interrupted, "You know how I feel about all your reading."

She sniffed and fixed her gaze on her brother. "Eli," she said sweetly, "Come here and let me get you all cleaned off."

To Puck's amusement, Eli glared at her mutinously. Obviously he was just beginning to explore the joys of getting dirty. There was no way he was ready to get cleaned up just yet. She glowered at Puck in the wake of Eli's disobedience and he shrugged, "Two against one, Rach. Give it up."

"Eli is four," she pointed out. "His vote doesn't count."

Puck looked down at his son who was cheerfully ignoring Rachel and marching around in circles, happily chanting, "Mud, mud, mud, mud!" over and over again.

"Actually babe, I think his vote is the only one that really counts."

She stared at him, a churlish look on her face. "Sometimes I despise you," she informed him seriously.

He tried to not let the comment bother him. "Yeah, well you're no picnic either." he retorted, advancing on her slowly. "But even when you're being a huge party pooper, you're still hot."

Rachel tried not to smile and he grinned back at her, "I think you're going to despise me a hell of a lot more after this!"

She caught on a second to late, squealing as he lunged for her. She turned to run but he scooped her up easily.

"Put me down." she demanded, a giggle escaping her lips even as she frowned at him and clung to his neck.

He shook his head, "No can do. Kick your shoes off." Puck whirled around so her feet were facing the direction of the embankment.

"Noah, please don't." she pouted.

He arched his eyebrow and said nothing. After a minute she gave a long suffering sigh and kicked off her shoes, as directed.

"I want my protest noted," she muttered as he sloshed back through the mud towards Eli and Hank.

"I promised you dirty babe, and I always deliver." he winked and she rolled her eyes.

"What if there's glass under there? Or metal?" she fretted as he came to a stop.

"Fuck, you over think everything." he complained. "What about monsters or flesh eating insects?"

"Don't even joke," she warned.

It was his turn to roll his eyes. "Okay, I'm putting you down."

"I'll scream." she warned, making a last ditch effort to escape the torture he had planned for her.

He chuckled, kissing her cheek. "Funny, I'd already pegged you as a screamer," he whispered into her ear as he dropped her feet first into the mud.

"God, must you always find innuendo in every innocent comment?" she asked with a huff, "This is awful. I hate this." she bitched as she lifted up her foot. She pursed her lips and was about to launch into another rant when a strange expression stole over her face.

Puck crossed his arms and watched. She looked up at him and squinted.

"Pretty nice isn't it?" he asked knowingly.

"No," she denied and he laughed.

"I've told you before Berry, you're a crappy liar. Don't bullshit a bullshitter."

"Fine, well-" she closed her eyes and lifted her foot again, "I suppose..." she set it down again and felt the mud - warm from the heat of the day - ooze between her toes. The texture reminded her of pudding, she decided as she hesitantly took a walk, circling Eli and an amused Puck.

"Well?"

She stopped and turned towards him, sighing in exasperation. "Alright, you win. You were right. This feels good."

Puck nodded, satisfied. "That's all I wanted to hear Berry." He said smugly, turning and heading towards where Eli was building a tower of mud. He'd taken two steps when he felt the slap on the back of his head and thick wetness sliding down his neck. He touched his fingers to his neck and wiped away the mud. Rachel's giggle had him turning back towards her slowly.

"Oh, you are in for it now." He growled playfully, lunging for her once again. This time she was prepared and easily evaded him. Hank started barking and Eli jumped to his feet and took off after them, racing to catch up with Puck as he chased her around in large circles.

"I'm coming for you Rach!" he yelled, rapidly advancing on her.

"Noooooo!" Rachel screamed, laughing as he grabbed her around the waist.

"Gotcha!" They pivoted in the mud before falling in a tangled heap.

"Omph," He fell on her heavily, pressing her underneath him into the mud and she pushed at his chest, easing his weight off of her diaphragm. Puck propped himself up on his hands but made no move to get off her.

"Finally, I've got you where I want you," he said cheekily, gazing down at her. "Hi."

"Hi," she repeated softly, looking back at him with shining eyes. He dipped his head and kissed her languidly.

"Dirty looks good on you," he told her with a grin when he lifted his head again, wiping at a streak of mud on her cheek but only succeeding in making it worse. She barely had a chance to take a much needed breath before Eli was jumping on them, eager to join the fun. Puck held him off while he rolled to the side and then they were laughing and pushing mud over her legs.

"Bury her!" Eli cried, pushing at her chest as she tried vainly to sit up.

"Alright!" she surrendered and fell back, grimacing as they essentially mummified her.

When they had covered her entire body, except for her face, they helped her out of her mud cocoon and buried Puck, then Eli. They attempted to bury Hank but the dog took off and the three of them spent the better part of half an hour trying to catch him, slipping and sliding through the mud and squealing with laughter.

Rachel watched Eli's face as he played; his smile so wide she thought his face would split in two. She'd never seen him so happy and as Puck lifted him in the air and spun him around in circles, she felt her heart seize painfully as that realization sunk in.

She had tried to give Eli the best of everything. He wore nice clothes, had the best reviewed educational toys and a wide variety of lessons to keep his interests well rounded. She took him to the park and spent hours lying on the rug with him and his alphabet books. He had play dates and trips to the museum; they played hide and seek and listened to the Wiggles together, but she had never engaged in this type of unrestrained exuberance with him – this down and dirty, boisterous kind of fun had never been part of their experience together.

Until that very moment Rachel would have claimed to have given her brother the ideal childhood but seeing him now, perched up on his father's shoulders, Rachel finally admitted to herself that marrying Finn would be a huge mistake.

Eli didn't need the security of a two story house by the water, a kitchen full of stainless steel appliances and a tabby cat that spent more time glaring at him than letting him pet her.

He didn't need her to marry a man she didn't love, just to provide a stable role model for him to look up to. He had a father, one who already loved him unconditionally.

Eli needed her to be happy and as she looked at Puck, she thought for the first time in a long time that she was. It was him; it was Noah. He made her laugh and forced her to relax and enjoy life, rather than simply go through the motions and live it. He could probably turn a trip to the store for milk into a full blown adventure and she couldn't help but feel she wanted to be the one to take that adventure – all of the adventures - with him.

"Stop thinking," Puck growled in mock annoyance, noticing her contemplative look. He tugged her to her feet and stole a kiss before leading her and Eli back to the grassy embankment where they ate a lunch of fruit and sandwiches. Afterwards, happy and exhausted, they lay back on the blanket, pointing out shapes in the puffy white clouds before returning to the mud bog and building, with the help of Eli's bucket and spade, what Puck declared the most badass mud castle there ever was.

"You're still thinking," Puck accused later as they say on the edge of the mud bog and he watched Rache unfold her legs from underneath herself and rake her toes through the mud. She'd got over her aversion to the stuff hours ago.

She smiled at him, "Guilty. Do you have a penny for my thoughts?"

Puck fished through the pocket in his jeans and came up with a crumpled dollar. Rachel snatched it up and tucked it into her bra, much to Puck's amusement.

"Well," he prompted. "Spill. What's going on it that crazy head of yours?"

She lifted her shoulder and watched Eli making piles of mud pies.

"Nothing of consequence, I was just thinking that again, you were right." She paused and pointed at her top, one that was white a few short hours ago, but was now black and grey. "My clothes are going to be ruined."

"Mmm-hmmm, I just gave you a buck woman. How about you give me my monies worth and tell me the truth?"

She looked at him in surprise, "How do you know I'm not telling you the truth now?"

Puck grinned and leant forward, touching her forehead, "because you get these little lines between your eyes when you lie, right here."

"Oh." She touched that spot. He was looking at her expectantly and she smiled.

"In that case, I was thinking how fun and," she paused, "unexpected today was."

"You had fun, really?" he asked as though he couldn't guess from the grin she'd been sporting for the last few hours.

"Yes."

He shifted so he was sitting next to her and she leant against him and reached for his hand, allowing her head to fall on his shoulder as they watched Eli and Hank.

"I'm happy, Noah." She told him quietly. "Are you happy?"

He squeezed her fingers and slid his arm around her waist, pressing his lips against her hair.

"Yeah, baby. How could I not be? I have a son who is possibly the smartest and cutest kid to ever walk the planet and a gorgeous woman beside me, who's just begging to be kissed."

She turned her head, "Begging? Really?" She arched her eyebrow and he chuckled, pulling on her elbow until she turned in his arms.

"Don't pretend you don't want it," he murmured, kissing her temple and then her cheek, angling towards her mouth. Her breath caught in her throat as his mouth lowered slowly and her heart seemed to still until she felt the first touch of his lips.

She sighed and leaned into him, her hands sliding over his chest. His body was warm and hard underneath her palms and her fingers tightened in his shirt as his hands pushed up the hem of her top so they could settle against the bare skin of her lower back, pressing her against him. He groaned against her mouth as her lips parted and he deepened the kiss, the tip of his tongue sliding slowly over her upper lip until she thought she might die with the prolonged torture of wanting him.

When he pulled back and she saw his eyes, their hazel color dark and warm as they gazed back into hers, she smiled. Rachel considered the butterflies that took flight in her stomach whenever their gazes connected; she could get used to them.

"Noah?" She whispered just before their lips touched again, "I want it."

***/***

Puck was a goner.

Rachel Berry on a normal day, with her spotless tennis shoes and her long silky hair coiled into a tight bun was stuff that fantasies were made of, but this Rachel Berry - the one with mud streaked across her face and her warm chocolate gaze sparkling with happiness - was simply irresistible.

He got to his feet and pulled her up with him. Impulsively he dipped his head and kissed her again, feeling her smile against his lips.

When he pulled back, he brushed his thumb over her cheek and gazed at her, trying to make sense of the last 72 hours. He knew it would be easy just to lose himself in her; to get caught up in this new spirited, breath taking woman that had emerged from behind the defensive shield she had constructed for herself, and was only just allowing him to penetrate, but he knew he had to think long and hard about this.

His life was tied to hers now, forever because of the little boy they had agreed to share and although they had discussed their attraction maturely, sensibly, he knew all too well how easily it was to succumb to passion and suppress rational thought.

It was almost laughable really. Rachel had been the one insisting from the beginning that they couldn't explore the heat that existed between them when they had Eli to consider, and here she was, willing to jump into a relationship with him and Puck was the one taking a mental step back, considering carefully the ramifications a break up would have on all three of them.

But he was in too deep. He couldn't put a stop to it now, even if he wanted too - which he didn't.

Rachel was leaning into his hand, her eyes searching his. "Is everything alright, Noah?" She asked quietly, worrying her lip as she noted the solemness of his expression.

"Yeah," he smiled down at her and brushed his lips over her mud-caked forehead.

"I was just thinking, I should take you back to my place, rather than the motel." He dropped his hand from her face, his eyes searching for Eli who was still happily making mud pies at the edge of the mud bog with Hank by his side.

"I need to unhook the trailer from the truck and I don't think you and Eli have any clean clothes left at all, do you?"

Rachel shook her head ruefully, pulling the filthy tank top away from her body and then letting it go; it slapped wetly back into place and as she shifted she grimaced, feeling the mud slide down her thighs. "I'm in dire need of a washing machine," she admitted.

"Right, well we'll go home and shower. I mean, not together or anything," he clarified quickly, cursing under his breath as he felt his cheeks warm and saw her arch her eyebrow in amusement.

Since when did he get embarrassed about a little innuendo? Shit was just not on.

"We just really need to get out of these clothes," he forged on, only to stop and snap his mouth closed as she giggled.

"That wasn't supposed to come out like that," he said awkwardly.

"Like what?" She blinked innocently and winked.

He chuckled and rubbed his hand over the back of his neck self consciously. "Fuck Rach," he growled jokingly, "There are 15 year old virgins with better game than me at the moment."

She laughed as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and they headed over to Eli.

"I think you're endearing," she told him, leaning into him as they walked.

"Would you have something at your house we could change into while I do the laundry?" she asked, changing the subject.

"Sure, I've got t-shirts and sweats, we'll make do. What do you say we keep with the camping theme and grill some steaks on the deck tonight? Or in your case, some vegetables," he rolled his eyes and Rachel poked him in the stomach as she smiled.

"That sounds wonderful,"

They came to a stop beside his son who looked up at them with a tired grin, Puck grinned back, "C'mon bud, it's time to go. Where are your shoes?"

As Eli pointed and jumped up to collect his abandoned shoes and socks, Rachel stepped out from under Puck's arm and bent down to collect the bucket and plastic shovel Eli had been playing with.

"He looks wiped out," Puck commented, stopping to gather their empty water bottles and his and Rachel's own shoes, "he'll probably be in bed early. He can crash in the guest room and we could curl up on the couch with a movie, what do you think?"

She thought it sounded like he was asking her out on a date. Her smile widened; she couldn't wait to have him to herself for a while.

"I think that's a good plan," She replied casually as she straightened, accepting her mud caked tennis shoes from Puck and stuffing her feet into them without bothering to undo the laces. Eli joined them then and Rachel wiggled her fingers at him, smiling as he took her hand. She whistled shrilly over her shoulder.

"Hank, its home time!" she called merrily. The dog obediently trotted to Rachel's side from where he'd been off, nosing around in the thicket for rabbits, and Puck smiled as she reached down with her free hand to scratch him affectionately behind the ear.

He tucked the empty water bottles under his arm and stuffed his hands into his pockets, humming a random tune as he followed them to the truck.

She liked his dog. He knew it.

***/***

On the drive home two things occurred to Puck. The first was that he was taking Rachel and his son home to his house - a house that was declared a national disaster even by his own standards. The engine that had sat on the counter during Rachel's first visit was still sitting in the same spot, he had a weeks worth of dirty dishes stacked in his kitchen sink and he struggled to remember the last time he had cleaned his bathroom.

Rachel was going to pitch a fit, he could feel it.

The second was 'the list'. The page full of notes he had painstakingly written out when he had appointed himself the task of determining 'What a Woman Should Know', was somewhere amongst the clutter in the pigsty he called home, and he had no clue where he had left it last

The possibility of Rachel accidentally finding it before he had a chance to dispose of it had him ushering her and Eli hastily into the house and straight to the bathroom. "You two can use the bathroom first," he offered gallantly. That would give him time to get the engine off the counter, submerge the dishes in hot, soapy water and search quickly for his list.

"Wait," Rachel dug her heels into the carpet as he practically shoved her into the bathroom. "We need something to wear."

He nodded and marched purposely towards his bedroom, "Stay there," he instructed, "I'll be right back."

As he crossed the threshold of his bedroom he stopped short and gaped; his eyes travelling over the unmade bed, the mass of clothes over the floor and the pizza box on the nightstand that he fervently hoped was empty. He quickly closed the door behind him.

"What a fucking mess," he muttered to himself, sure that it wasn't this disgusting when he'd left a few days before.

He crossed quickly to his dresser, glancing quickly around the room for a flash of yellow paper that might be his list. He opened the second drawer and rummaged through his t-shirt collection for something for Eli and Rachel to wear.

"Is everything alright?" Rachel called through the door a few minutes later, wincing as she heard a bang and Puck's muffled curse.

"Yeah, everything's fine." he replied, followed by a panicked, "don't come in here!"

Rachel bit her lip to keep from laughing, "It doesn't have to be the perfect fit. I can tie the pants up with some string if I have to." There was no response and she frowned. "Noah, if it's too much trouble I can always go back to the motel. There may be something moderately clean that will suffice."

"No, I've got heaps of clothes. Just give me a minute."

The problem was, Puck thought sourly as he glared into his drawers, vainly hoping that the list would materialize from between the sloppily folded t-shirts, that he had _too many_ clothes. None of which were suitable.

For instance, did he offer her the bright red t-shirt emblazed boldly with 'MY BETTER HALF' and an arrow pointing downwards? Or a light grey one with the picture of a caution sign-like outline of a woman kneeling in front of a man, and the slogan 'BE SAFE - USE MY BREATHALIZER'.

He shook his head and tossed both shirts to the floor in disgust.

Mike gave him t-shirts almost every year for Christmas despite the fact that he knew Puck was Jewish. Gifts were a tricky thing amongst the members of the N.G.M.N.F.W.N.F.E club - they were guys, so they didn't want to be too sentimental. Luckily, few years ago Mike had discovered t-shirts as the perfect bro gift and every year since then, he and Puck had taken great pleasure in selecting the most crude and borderline offensive shirts for each other, just for laughs.

Most of Mike's gifts Puck had never worn because you didn't want to ruin a perfectly good shirt fixing cars when you already had a half dozen grease stained work shirts with holes in them. Looking over the shirts on offer, Puck had to admit that them being new was not the only reason he hadn't worn them in public. There was a bright blue one that said, 'Long story short, I fucked her' that joined the rapidly growing pile on the floor and a black one emblazed with 'Blow Me' above a pair of dice.

He had a feeling Rachel wasn't ready for Mike's in-your-face sense of humor just yet.

He sighed in relief as he located a plain white one towards the bottom of the pile and he snatched it up, along with a pair of sweats with a draw string waist that would just have to do. He crossed to the door and paused. If her bra was dirty too, which he had to assume it was, then she would be forgoing underwear after her shower. The thought of Rachel in his clothes without a barrier of panties had his knees buckling. That, and the fact that her nipples would be totally visible through the thin white cotton, had him growling and tossing the white shirt to the ground.

Stalking back to his drawers he found an old, grey William McKinley High School t-shirt with his football number on the back. He nodded in satisfaction and inched open his bedroom door, thrusting the t-shirt and sweats out to her before slamming the door shut behind him so she couldn't see the mess in his bedroom.

He turned quickly, dried mud flying off him in all directions. Now - something for him. The best part about being a bachelor was that you could get dressed in the dark. You didn't need to spend precious time searching for something that would make a fashion statement when you could -

"Noah," Rachel's soft knock interrupted his internal monologue. "Do you have another shirt I can put on Eli while I wash his clothes?"

The white one would do for Eli. Puck opened the door barely a crack as he shoved it out to her.

He cursed his poor housekeeping skills as his eyes roamed over the room again, twice as untidy now as it had been when he'd got home, if that was even possible. He kicked at the pile of rejected shirts on the floor, searching for an option for himself when he stopped suddenly. He was behaving like a nervy, teenage boy and he was pissed at himself for acting as if his choice of fucking t-shirt even mattered. He had bigger problems, like the fact that he had limited time to get the engine of the counter and search for his list.

Still, a stubborn part of him that was trying to insist that he didn't give a flying fuck what Rachel thought of him reached for the first shirt he touched. It was the black one with the dice. At the last second, he turned it inside out so she wouldn't be able to read the slogan.

He was so fucking whipped.

Puck decided to leave on his muddy jeans until after his own shower and headed for the kitchen, pausing as he heard Eli splashing merrily in the tub and Rachel's melodic voice echoing off the tiles. He wasted precious minutes listening to them, letting the sounds of his son and his - well, _whatever_ Rachel was - wash over him, creating warmth throughout his home that he hadn't realized had been sorely lacking until that very moment.

He charged into the kitchen, telling himself the whole way that getting the engine off the counter wasn't about impressing her either. He wondered why it should even occur to him to do so. Rachel had started off thinking the worst of him when they first met, and yet she was still willing to explore a relationship with him, so he must have been doing _something_ right. And yes, he said relationship, because that's what he knew this was turning into. He wasn't an idiot. Puck knew he wasn't going to be able to walk away from her at the end of the two weeks. Hell, he didn't want her to go back to the motel to change, that's how close he wanted to keep her.

He wrapped his hands around the engine to hoist it up and stopped. Where the fuck was he going to put it? Opening the garage and moving it all the way out there was a bigger job that he had time for. His hazel gaze scrutinized the compact kitchen and he fixed his eyes on the cupboard under the sink. _Jackpot._ He pulled out the garbage can, lifted the engine - grunting under the weight of it - and shoved it under the sink. Now the cupboard door wouldn't quite close and the garbage can was sitting right in the middle of the floor, but there was a vast improvement over the countertop.

_Shit. Was that the sound of the bath draining?_

He looked at the garbage can and quickly opened the oven door, jamming the can inside. The oven door didn't shut either, but it was hardly noticeable. Puck grabbed a scouring pad and was scrubbing the grease off the Formica countertop as best he could when Eli came barrelling into the kitchen, tripping over the white t-shirt which was miles to big for him, with Hank, looking as filthy as ever, trailing after him.

The shower turned on and Puck knew he had brought himself more time, as long as he didn't allow himself to get distracted by the thought of Rachel, standing naked in his tub. A very naked_, wet _Rachel. He let out a guttural groan and closed his eyes. He felt something hit his knees and he looked down to see Eli wrapping his arms around his legs, his smiling face tipped upwards.

Puck threw down the scouring pad, wiped his hands on his shirt and lifted him, setting him down on top of the freshly scrubbed counter. The clock was ticking and although he had only minutes in which to complete a multitude of tasks, he gave up. The insanity stopped here. Why would he voluntarily turn down precious time with his son when he'd already missed so many lazy summer afternoons just like this, not to mention the birthdays and the bedtime stories? No way. The choice was a no-brainer.

"Hey Buddy, all clean?"

Eli nodded, "Yup. All clean." He lifted his hands for Puck's inspection and Puck took one in his, pretending to check it for signs of dirt.

"Good job."

Eli nodded again and flashed him a wide grin, "Now can we bath Hank?"

Puck laughed, "Well bud, bathing Hank isn't exactly easy. It's not something to be undertaken lightly."

It wasn't something to be undertaken at all. Not when you were desperately trying to get your kitchen to pass muster anyway, since the only place it was possible to control the dog was in the oversized kitchen sink.

"Please Puck?" the request was accompanied by the blinking of wide hazel eyes and a pouting lower lip.

Well how the fuck was he supposed to resist that? Especially since it was one of only a few direct requests Eli had ever made of him. Puck quickly piled all of the dirty dishes in the ancient dishwasher that he wasn't sure was even still operational, and then turned to help Eli off the counter.

"Hank," Puck whistled, "Come here, boy."

Hank, whose instincts were so finely honed that he was usually nowhere to be found if he so much as heard the word 'bath', peeked around the side of the door and skulked reluctantly towards them.

Puck smirked, "That's love," he told his dog as he scooped him up and deposited him in the sink. "It gets you in hot water faster than you can blink."

Hank was so besotted by Eli that he just sat there as Puck grabbed the dog wash and brush and dragged a chair over for Eli to stand on. He whined lowly but didn't move an inch as they ran warm water around him, not wriggling or nipping threateningly with his teeth as he was prone to do when Puck bathed him.

Clearly Hank wasn't the only dude in the household not thinking straight, because there was a woman in his house that screamed "I'm a keeper" and Puck wasn't employing any of his own highly effective escape manoeuvrers either.

More troubling was the fact that, with Rachel in his shower and Eli and Hank in his kitchen, there was nowhere Puck wanted to escape _to_. What kind of N.G.M.N.F.W.N.F.E member was he, hiding engines in kitchen cupboards and agonizing over outfits? He vowed to make sure Mike never heard of this, because it wouldn't be just his club card that would be revoked if he was found out, it would be his man card too.

Surreptitiously, he adjusted himself in his pants. _Yeah, still there._

By the time Rachel emerged from the bathroom, Puck's only job was to keep one finger hooked into Hank's collar as Eli scooped bubbles over the dog's head. Again, Puck marvelled at Hank's complete and utter surrender - it usually took all his strength, a couple of c clamps and a bungee cord to keep Hank in the sink for more than 2 minutes and yet here he was, allowing a four year old to rub shampoo in his coat and scrub lovingly between each toenail.

"What's all this?" Rachel asked as she took in the scene before her. Puck turned to reply and when he saw her, the words died in his throat.

She looked absolutely breath taking; her hair was towel dried, tussled and curling around her shoulders and her cheeks were pink and clean from the shower. She should have looked ridiculous in his too large clothes, but unfortunately, ridiculous was the last adjective on his mind.

She'd rolled his sweat pants up to her knees and her feet were bare. His shirt was knotted at the back, displaying a large expanse of toned stomach and he knew immediately that she wasn't wearing a bra; his jeans tightened in response. She looked fucking awesome in his old football number. He had a feeling that 16 year old Rachel would have been in his 16 year old spank bank if they had been in high school together. Her wearing that shirt and nothing else.

He vowed to make that mental picture a reality by morning.

Rachel smiled at him and he felt his pulse pick up in response. His eyes roamed over her once more and he licked his lips and glanced at the clock. It wasn't even close to Eli's bedtime and immediately he felt ashamed for his eagerness to send his son off to bed when he'd been so keen to get a few extra minutes with him earlier.

It was just that he wanted her so badly. No, _needed_ her. He'd been fantasizing constantly about how she would look lying underneath him and he was counting down the minutes until he could trail his hands all over her soft skin, without interruption.

His eyes flickered to her face and he groaned when he saw her looking back at him, her lip caught between her teeth and her own eyes darker than he'd ever seen them. She was entertaining thoughts along those same lines, he knew it.

_"Shit."_

"Noah," she chastised immediately, as she crossed over to them, hip checking him as she settled between him and Eli. "Don't swear."

She tried to frown up at him but her grin couldn't be contained and she reached on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek before plunging her hands in the water. In seconds she was up to her elbows in suds, laughing at Hank's woeful expression.

Puck stared at her, amazed.

He hadn't been imagining it. She really did like his dog!

That was it; he was tendering his resignation to the N.G.M.N.F.W.N.F.E Club.

Suddenly he was deeming the club juvenile, formed by a couple of guys too jaded by romances gone sour to admit that they were lonely. Why the hell would anyone hang onto that membership when they had a woman like Rachel, with her compact little body, doe-like Bambi eyes and spitfire personality to keep him on his toes? He was starting to think he could spend the rest of his life kissing her lips, and those things that she was so vocal in wanting? A diamond ring and a signature on an ever-after kind of contract? Not so scary.

Shit, he was a_ total_ goner.

He felt himself go very still and over the sound of water slopping, Rachel and Eli laughing and Hank's gentle "woofs", Puck could hear his heart hammering double time in his chest. He stared at Rachel's profile for a full minute, his eyes tracing the curve of her chin, and the shape of her nose. His gaze then shifted to his son, and then back again.

This was it, it was what he wanted. Rachel _and_ Eli, in his kitchen, in his house and in his_ life_. Forever. And not just part time, on holidays or two weeks over summer vacation, but everyday. How the fuck was he going to make that happen? She was with him, kind of. At least she said she wanted to be, for the moment. But in the two days since she'd made the decision, they hadn't really had any time together and she hadn't come right out and said that she wasn't marrying Finn.

It was implied, he supposed, since Rachel had heard Quinn (without knowing it WAS Quinn) in the background at Finn's house, but he needed to hear her say the words. He wanted her to tell him she didn't want to marry anyone else, not now or in the future; that she couldn't imagine that picture perfect family unit she was always going on about without him standing there, right by her side.

His man card was surely in ashes by now.

Fuck, he thought he might kind of _love _her.

Puck let go of Hank completely, running his hand over his head and ignoring her quizzical gaze.

Love? He snorted. That was bullshit, right? Impossible. He barely knew her, really.

He couldn't be in love with her, _already._

She'd appeared out of nowhere less than two weeks ago, he couldn't seriously be considering re-writing his entire future to include her, when she was technically still engaged to another man. Shit, he hadn't even fucked her yet.

He looked up and was caught by her dark chocolate orbs. Immediately, he lost himself in them.

_He totally was._

In a daze, he spun away from her and turned on the oven. Tonight he would dazzle her with his epic BBQ skills and then, once Eli was asleep, he'd spread her out on his bed and finally see how she looked against the whiteness of his sheets, her hair fanned out across his pillow.

Maybe he'd even share his thoughts on diamond rings and ever-after kinds of contracts, and how they pertained to her. Or maybe not.

His thoughts returned to the menu as he pulled open his fridge and inspected the contents. He'd grill some steaks for himself and Eli, careful not to let any of the meat touch the vegetable patties he'd brought before their camping trip, especially for her. He rummaged around in the vegetable crisper and decided on baked potatoes with all the fixings, because they were always a crowd favorite. There was stuff for salad, ice cream for dessert and –

"Noah," once again Rachel was interrupting his internal monologue. "There seems to be smoke coming from your oven."

He came out of his reverie to see black smoke curling out of the burners of the hotplate and the slightly ajar over door.

_**Fuck! The garbage can! **_

He leapt across the kitchen and yanked open the over door, enveloping them all in a thick cloud of black smoke. Rachel lifted Eli down from the chair just as the smoke alarm started to squeal. She urged Eli onto the back porch and Hank, smart dog that he was, jumped from the sink and ran in the same direction towards the sanctuary of the backyard, a trail of bubbles in his wake.

Twenty minutes later, when both the garbage can and Hank had been hosed off, they all sat in Puck's backyard, watching the sun go down as they waited for the smoke to clear from inside. Eli was leaning happily against Puck's shins as he dug in the dirt for worms, while Rachel sat on the grass nearby, Hank wrapped up in a large beach towel on her lap.

She had actually braved the smoke to retrieve towels after Puck had hosed Hank down, not wanting the dog to catch a chill. She wasn't pretending. Hank had definitely won her over.

"Okay," she said quietly. "Enough, Noah. I want to know why there was a garbage can in your oven, why there's an engine sticking out from underneath the sink, causing a hazard to anyone with shins and why you have that horrible 'Blow Me' t-shirt on inside out."

He looked down in surprise and sure enough, the slogan was faintly visible. He stilled for the second time in less that an hour and clenched his eyes shut. A million excuses came to mind, some true, other's not, but he couldn't seem to voice any of them.

"I should hit the shower," Puck muttered, making a move to rise.

Her hand shot out and grasped his forearm, "Not until you answer my questions." She said firmly.

He glared at her. "You want the truth?" at her nod, his scowl deepened. "The truth is that I've turned into a gigantic pussy and embarrassingly, I seem to be doing everything I can to like, _impress_ you. And I'd say, from the smoke stinging my damn eyes and the fact that you smell like wet dog and garbage, that I'm doing a pretty shitty job of it."

Rachel frowned, "I smell like wet dog and garbage?"

He rolled his eyes and she touched his arm. "You're wrong you know, Noah. The only embarrassing fact is that you managed to impress me a while back, without even half trying."

"Yeah?" he questioned sceptically.

Her gaze was level, "Yes."

Puck stared at her, as if he couldn't quite figure out if she was telling the truth, and then leaned forward. She met him halfway and they shared a very brief kiss. When they parted, they both glanced at Eli who was failing to pay them any attention.

His kid was awesome at the oblivious stuff when they needed him to be.

"So, I should really take that shower." He said again and she nodded, flashing him a smile.

"You do that. We'll be here when you get out."

He paused and squeezed her fingers before running his hand over Eli's soft brown hair.

"Good," he murmured before heading inside.

When he was gone, Rachel let out a small squeak that had Eli looking up in surprise.

Rachel leapt to her feet and spun around, laughing. When she saw Eli just staring at her, she reached for his hands and pulled him up to dance with her. Hank wriggled out of the towel she had wrapped him in and ran excited circles around them.

"He's trying to impress me," she told her brother ecstatically. "He likes me."

She had her suspicions of course, but this – he admitted it. Rachel was practically giddy.

Here she was, with a stinky wet dog jumping on her, smoke billowing out of the kitchen windows and the remains of a blackened garbage bin beside her. With Eli there and the sounds of Puck singing some classic 80's rock song in the shower, she'd never been happier.

He really did have a lovely singing voice.

* * *

**_A/N 2: There. Two updates in a week...who said I wasn't motivated? Thanks to those that voted in my WAWSK sex poll *snicker*. Slow and Sensual is winning but there's still time to vote - link from my authors page. The result will be in the next chapter. As always, thanks for reading!_**


	13. Slow and Sensual

_**A/N: Happy Season Two premiere day! What did you think? How is it possible that Puck got even hotter over the summer break? Phoar. He needs to be naked, like at all times.**_

_**I have heaps of thanks to extend today!**_

_**Many thanks to you guys for the reviews. I'm so humbled by the fact that many of you are sad to see this fic come to an end…thanks for getting past the initial freak out over the thought of Puck and Shelby and sticking it out with me, lol.**_

_**Thanks to the lovely missphenix for the song suggestion contained in this chapter. Eric Church – Guys like Me, I think it's called. It's country! (look at me broadening my music tastes).**_

_**To the equally lovely diva divine for her input on the sexing stuff and to everyone who voted in my poll!**_

_**Finallly, reader shout out to LJ515 and downonyourknees and all those who are new to the WAWSK family….welcome **_

* * *

Now, onto the fic…

During dinner, Puck and Rachel spent the entire time sneaking shy glances at each other and playing footsies under the table, all the while keeping Eli engaged in laughter and conversation, and reminding Hank that he was in fact a dog and not a person, and as such did not have an actual seat at the table.

He lay morosely under Eli's chair, perking up only when Puck threw him bits of his steak and Eli offered him half of his sausage. The little boy was slumped in his seat, fast asleep by the end of supper and Puck volunteered to carry him to bed while Rachel cleared up and managed to work out the settings on the ancient dishwasher. When the counters were wiped down and the dishwasher hummed quietly in the back ground, she took her glass of wine to the living room and stood in front of Puck's extensive music collection.

Shelves ran the entire length of the wall, overflowing with CD's, sleeves of vinyl records and an assortment of old cassette tapes. Her fingers ran over the titles as she noted his taste in music seemed to be wide and eclectic, and she jumped as she felt his arms encircle her from behind and his lips nuzzle into the side of her neck.

"He's asleep?" She questioned a little breathlessly as she titled her head to give him better access.

"Mmm-hmm," he murmured, moving his mouth over the column of her throat. "He woke up as I was tucking him in, but was out like a light before I was even halfway through 'Where the Wild Things Are'. By the way, Max is a total badass."

Rachel giggled at that, relaxing and leaning back into him, just savouring the sensation of his arms around her, his fingers stroking idly over her stomach.

"What are you listening too?" she asked softly after a moment, gesturing at the stereo. For an answer, Puck reached over, turned on the power button and pressed play.

She giggled again when he took her back into his arms as the twang of a guitar floated out of the speakers and some bluegrass country song filled the room.

_**I wear a greasy ball cap  
I like my shirt untucked  
I spend Saturdays working on my truck  
I don't like to fight  
But I ain't scared to bleed  
Most don't mess with a guy like me**_

"You know, I never really pegged you for a fan of Country music, Noah." She mused, sliding her hands up over his chest as his arms tightened around her waist. She tipped her head up and smiled as he kissed her softly.

"There's a lot of things you don't know about me, babe." He returned huskily, nipping at her lower lip.

They began to sway gently to the music and Rachel smiled serenely at him, allowing the simple lyrics to wash over her.

_**'Cause guys like me drink too many beers on Friday after work  
Our best blue jeans have Skoal rings  
We wear our boots to church  
So rough around the edges  
It's hard to believe  
That girls like you  
Love guys like me**_

"Finally," he sighed gratefully into the cocoon of tranquillity, "We're alone." That last word held a hint of suggestion and she dropped her eyes, tracing the crude slogan of his "Blow Me" t-shirt with her finger as his palm pressed against her lower back, bringing her even closer to his body until they were thigh to thigh, breasts to chest.

She hummed in contentment and rested her head in the nook of his shoulder, closing her eyes and listening to the song and feeling the steady beat of his heart underneath her palm.

_**Your daddy worked at the bank  
Mine worked on cars  
You went to college  
I pulled graveyard  
You must have had your pick  
Of all the trust fund types  
But you came back to me and only God knows why**_

"Noah?" She asked quietly, pressing a kiss to his jaw and rising on her tip toes as she brought her face in close to his. She smiled when she felt his heart skip a beat under her palm and then speed up in response to her nearness.

"Yeah babe?"

She paused for a moment before asking, "Why were you doing all that earlier? Rushing around, trying to impress me?"

He shrugged as he met her eyes and from this angle, she noticed that his brown-green irises were colored with tiny flecks of gold.

"I suppose I wanted to do something to convince you that you made the right choice - with me I mean."

She broke out into a wide grin, "And you thought the way to do that was to set fire to your garbage can?"

He groaned, rolling his eyes a little bit. "Can we forget about that, please? Yeah, that wasn't one of my finest moments. I just wanted to cook a nice dinner, ply you with wine, put my kid to bed and maybe try my luck at hitting third base or something."

Rachel laughed, her fingers brushing along the nape of his neck. "Third base, Noah? Are we in high school now?"

He shook his head ruefully and kissed her nose as he continued to sway, moving her slowly across his living room floor.

_**Now there's a lot of guys like me out there  
In a lot of little towns  
And tellin' all our buddies, we won't ever settle down  
We say thats just the way we are and the way we'll always be  
So God sends girls like you for guys like me  
Thank God there's girls like you, for guys like me**_

As the song came to an end and the track switched, Puck realized that truer lyrics had never been sung. He was beginning to think that Eli and Rachel were a gift straight from God, to soothe that aching loneliness he didn't know he'd had until he sat and thought about the two of them going back to Long Island and living their every day lives without him.

"You know, I was serious when I told you the other day that everything changed since I met you," he confessed lowly. "I know you were skeptical - hell it feels like this has totally come out of left field for me too - and I don't know if it's because of you or Eli, or a combination of both, but I want things now."

Her brow furrowed as she cocked her head to the side, "What kind of things, Noah?" She prodded gently.

"Things," he repeated nonsensically. "A house and a dog and a big screen tv-"

She felt along his scalp for any signs of head trauma. "Noah, are you injured? You already have those things." She made a gesturing motion around the room.

Puck captured her hand and placed it over his heart, "You didn't let me finish," he admonished her and Rachel made an appropriately apologetic noise.

"Like I was saying, I want a house and a family to make it seem like home," he clarified, watching her carefully. "A dog for my kids to rumble around the backyard with and a big screen tv to snuggle in front of and watch movies on late at night."

He let that sink in, "I usually work till late in the garage, order pizza for dinner and then play my guitar a little. Sometimes, Chang comes over and we watch something together and even rarer than that I make it to my Ma's for dinner with her and Becca – but it's not enough." His hand was roaming over her lower back, dipping underneath her (his) t-shirt and trailing down her spine, making her shiver. "There's not enough laughter in my life, Rach. But it's different with you and Eli here. He's my son, you know? This parenting thing, it's a pretty sweet deal. You make sure he's fed and happy and then he looks at you with those big eyes of his and tells you he loves you and you just…." He trailed off and Rachel nodded in understanding.

"He told you he loves you?" She asked softly.

Puck let out a breath, "Yeah, and it just…I felt…"

She smiled into his cheek before pressing her lips to that spot. "That's a pretty great feeling, isn't it? It never gets old."

Puck chuckled, "I hope not. But that's not all. Then there's you."

"Me?" She bit her lip, "Do tell." She teased gently.

He didn't hesitate, "You're incredible." She blushed prettily. "You are Rach. You're gorgeous and smart, and funny - even when you don't mean to be."

"Hey," she interjected playfully, "I can joke."

He smirked and continued, "You're maddening and endearing; infuriating and sweet-"

"I'm sorry," she interrupted again. "I can't tell whether you like me or you hate me." She pouted adorably and he chuckled.

"I like you." He spelled it out for her. "Fuck Rach, it's more than like. I think maybe I, could you know…" he stumbled over his words. "Shit I think I _do_."

Her eyes were wide as he tried to spit it out, but she framed his face with her hands and dragged his lips down to hers before he could formulate the words she wasn't sure she was ready to hear. He hesitated briefly and then kissed her with a tender hunger, his tongue driving in and out of her mouth as his hands raked up her back.

After a few minutes of urgent exploration, he lifted his head and held her away from him slightly, his eyes darkening and growing darker with every breath he took. "Rachel, just stop and think for a sec because I want you so fucking much right now." He rubbed her lower lip with the pad of his thumb. "You are so fucking sweet; just one more taste and I don't think I'll be able to stop until I'm buried inside you and you're screaming my name."

She shuddered at his gruff declaration and bit the lip he'd just touched; her entire body on fire from just that one kiss.

"What makes you think you're going to get an objection from me, Noah?" she asked breathlessly, with a teasing arch to her eyebrow. "I think tonight you should bank on hitting a home run."

With a desperate groan, he covered her mouth again, kissing her deeply. "Fuck Rach, I was hoping you'd say that." He massaged her hips with restless hands. 'S'gonna be so good, baby."

She whimpered in response, her mouth slanting and taking his tongue into her slick warmth. His groin tightened immediately, the lust rippling through him. He hadn't lied; she did taste sweet, like strawberries and the orange tic tacs he'd first associated her with and he wanted to taste every inch of her before this night was through. He gathered her tighter against him, his mouth taking everything she gave as they shuffled back and came up against the wall beside the window sill.

With one hand around her waist and his mouth occupied, Puck fumbled with the drawstring on her sweatpants and pushed them down her legs, stroking over the back of her thigh as she stepped out of them and kicked them to the side. Her hand grabbed his and dragged it until he was cupping her ass firmly; Rachel moaned, thrusting her hips forward and feeling his arousal against her, hard as granite.

He inhaled sharply, "Feel what you do to me, Rach." He growled, grabbing her other ass cheek and pulling her lower half towards him as he thrust against her.

She clung to him, her heart pounding almost painfully in her chest as she took in every sensation of his lips, his hands and his body pressing her into the wall. While she was far from being a shy, blushing virgin, this feeling of restlessness and urgency was so new to her – it seemed like things were happening to her body, heart and mind simultaneously for the first time in her life. She had never felt the liquid heat, pooling between her thighs so intensely before, and she knew that if this need building inside her at a frantic pace wasn't satisfied soon, she was going to go certifiably insane.

A shiver passed over her as his hot gaze found hers and she grasped for one of his hands, guiding it up and under her shirt where it came in contact with her bare breast. This whole no underwear thing was really working for them, Puck thought dazedly. He really needed to get her out to that mud bog more often -like every day- if it meant she was always walking around in his sweats, naked underneath.

Puck sucked in a breath and so did Rachel. It was just the lightest of touches but the connection seemed to sear a red-hot bond between them. Then, when his calloused palms moved to knead her flesh, his thumbs coaxing her nipples to taut peaks, he brushed his other hand against the heat at the apex of her thighs and her knees gave out - she fell limply into his arms with a strangled cry.

He caught her with a short laugh and lowered them both to the floor. Puck tugged the shirt over her head and cupped her head as he laid her down on the carpet, capturing her lips in another scorching kiss.

He held both her wrists above her head as he settled against her, the provocative thrust of his tongue foretelling what he planned to do with his body. With her hands held captive, Rachel made the most of the limbs she could move freely. She arched her back and wrapped her legs around his waist, her nipples grazing against his chest as she rubbed up against him in a steady rhythm, making him crazy. He groaned, and his hungry kisses turned even more ravenous.

His mouth moved down her neck and fastened over one stiff peak. Puck listened to her moans and gave her more of what she liked, flicking her nipple with his tongue again and again as the fire raged inside her. He let go of her wrists and she rewarded him with appreciative caresses as her hands moved over the muscles of his back. She lifted her pelvis up to him, longing to feel him hard against her and he met her thrust, teasing her with just the gentlest rocking of his hips.

But Rachel didn't want to be teased anymore. She wanted Puck with an urgency unlike anything she had ever felt before. With shaky fingers she made an unsuccessful attempt to unbutton his jeans, pulling at the zipper and shrieking in frustration when it failed to budge.

Puck gave a hoarse chuckle, "Impatient much?" he mocked as he stood and stripped them off. His boxers followed and then he was dropping back to his knees and leaning over her. Rachel gazed at him; at the hard, long length of him and her mouth went dry. Desire smouldered within her and she readily gave in to the feeling, taking him in her hands and squeezing experimentally.

"Fuck!" he swore, his eyes closing as she stroked him. Then, like a blind man, his hand travelled downwards over her stomach, and his fingers slid surely between her wet folds.

"Noah," she gasped as he began his exploration, rubbing and pinching as she dug her heels into the carpet. And finally, when she thought she might die if he didn't give her _more_, he thrust two fingers deep inside her and pressed hard against her g-spot. "Oh god," she moaned, "_Please_ Noah, I need you."

He couldn't describe what that did to him, hearing her moan his name with abandon. No one called him Noah – well no one except for his mother, and he really didn't want to think about that right now because that shit could fuck with your head. But there was something about it, having his name fall from her lips like no other woman before her, that cemented for him that this was different;_ she_ was different.

Puck pumped his fingers quickly inside her, rubbing her clit with his thumb before withdrawing his hand, amidst her keening protests.

"Shhh, baby," he soothed, stroking the inside of her thigh as he leaned over and fumbled for his jeans. He growled with impatience as it took a few attempts to tug his wallet out of the pocket in his eagerness to find a foil packet.

Rachel waited; watching him from beneath lowered lids as he smoothly rolled the condom over his hard length and came back to her. He brushed her hair away from her face and smiled at her. She smiled back and then he was nudging her legs apart, rising above her and plunging into her, choking out her name.

The muscles in his arms bulged as he paused; Puck closed his eyes and held that position as he savoured the feeling of her vaginal walls clinging to his length, tight and hot around him.

"Fuck," he ground out, his jaw clenching. "Fuck you feel so fucking good, baby. You have no fucking idea."

One hand clutched at his bicep, her nails digging into his flesh as she struggled to open her eyes. When she saw him, posed above her, the embodiment of masculine perfection and pure sex, she thought she was going to spontaneously combust. Her breasts heaved as she tilted her hips, taking him deeper, her body begging him to put her out of her misery.

Rachel was desperate for him, desperate to experience what she hadn't even dared to dream of. For most of her adult life she had actively avoided exactly this type of intimacy. She had always been afraid of love and lust, and being with a man that made her feel _everything_. But not tonight.

"No, not tonight." He murmured, lifting his hand to stroke her cheek. It was then she realized she had voiced her thoughts out loud. He tilted her chin up and trailed his fingers down her neck as he looked into her eyes for what seemed like an eternity.

"You trust me, right baby?" he asked, his voice low and husky as he lowered his mouth back to hers, brushing his lips over hers.

"Yes," she whispered readily, without hesitation.

"Good," he kissed her again, taking his time as he pulled out of her only to thrust back in, his movements agonizingly slow.

She'd never been kissed like this before. It was almost as if Puck was giving her apart of himself, so slow and careful was the pressure of his mouth. He nipped and sucked at her lips, and something so deep and forgotten inside her awakened and responded to him with everything she had to offer.

He had told her once that he could show her what real passion was, of how it could –_ and should_ – be between a man and a woman; they'd barely scratched the surface of their mutual desire and already Rachel had trouble believing anyone else could ever evoke the same reactions from her body that his touch was drawing from her now.

His gifted hands stroked and massaged her entire upper body as his hips pistoned in and out at a torturously languid pace. He took her to the staggering peak of heightened bliss only to cruelly keep her there, teetering on the edge with just the promise of eventual relief.

"Faster," she begged, but he just shook his head, spreading her wider and pressing deeper inside her, his movements measured and unhurried.

"Don't want to rush it," he told her raggedly. "You're too fucking beautiful Rach, gotta make this last."

She moaned, "But I need to-" she broke off, panting as he pulled and pinched at her nipple. "Noah I need to cum, _please_."

She tingled, she ached, she _wanted_.

With every undulation of his hips, every rhythmic drive, he built her pleasure. She keened as his cock slid smoothly against her clit on the way out and repetitively hit her g-spot as he plunged back in, bumping against her cervix each time he was sheathed deep inside her, buried to the hilt.

They moved against each other for what seemed like hours, her soft sighs echoed by his grunts as they kissed and sucked every inch of skin they could reach. He slid his hand between them and his wickedly creative fingers teased her clit, the surges of fierce pleasure pulsating deep within her, increasing with each knowing move he made. Finally, she was shuddering and tightening around him, chanting his name as her orgasm rippled and clutched around his cock.

Only when she reached her climax did he follow her, his entire body going taut as he drove into her one last time, her name tumbling hoarsely from his lips.

They were both panting as their lips met, their kisses prolonged and soft as he continued to rock against her until the aftershocks of her orgasm faded and she was left weak and trembling, but undoubtedly alive.

Rachel rested her damp forehead against his shoulder, her quiet, but heartfelt "wow" drawing a knowing chuckle from him.

"Yeah," he agreed, "wow." Puck pulled out slowly, stroking her hip as she frowned and winced. He tied off the condom and tossed it to the side, flopping onto his back beside her and drawing her into his arms to rest against his chest.

"I can't believe we didn't make it further than the living room floor," she murmured minutes, or it could have been hours, later. Time seemed to have lost its meaning for her and her body was still humming in the aftermath of sated ecstasy.

"Is that a complaint?" Resting against his bare chest the way she was, she felt as well as heard the rumble of his voice from deep in his chest.

"No," she replied quietly, snuggling closer.

His hand stroked down her spine as he looked up at the ceiling, trying to catch his breath and figure out exactly how he got to be so lucky.

"No complaints at all? Because if there were we could always go and try this again in my bed."

She giggled, "That's so generous of you to offer, Noah." She teased, pressing a kiss to his pectoral muscle as he raked his fingers through her tousled hair.

"Well I have a few things I could show you back there," he said suggestively.

"Really?" She purred, bending her leg and sliding it over his thigh, her knee brushing against his dick. "I can see a few things from right here and I must admit, a very good looking thing it is too."

He laughed out loud, "Come on Berry, bed." He sat up, dislodging her from her spot and reaching for her hand.

"Can't move," she pouted, blinking her big brown eyes beseechingly up at him.

He rolled his eyes good naturedly and slid his arm under her knees, standing up and carrying her bridal style to his bedroom.

"Noah," she complained as he slammed the door shut behind him with his foot, "Your room is a pigsty!"

***/***

Puck woke first the next morning, before the first rays of the morning sun were barely lighting the sky. He hugged Rachel closer, feeling oddly possessive and needy as he thought back to the incredible night they'd shared. That feeling he'd had yesterday, of wanting her and Eli with him on a permanent basis, flared up again and after touching on the subject the night before, he wondered how he was going to broach it again and ensure they were both on the same page.

She was lying on her side facing away from him, giving him a fantastic view of her smooth back as she slept completely naked beneath the sheet, her ass nestled against his abdomen. He stroked her hip and felt the first stir of his morning arousal. Fuck he wanted her again, as he had several times during the course of the night. He'd lost count of the number of times they'd come together but from the multitude of discarded condom packets on his nightstand, that number was high.

Their first time had been slow and erotically sensual, but every time after that had been hard and fast, the incessant need to just take her rearing over and over again.

He was no stranger to desire for a woman. He was no saint and his reputation was legendary, but with Rachel he felt like a wild animal, his hunger for her seemingly insatiable.

He'd never reacted to any woman like that before, not even Shelby, and his relationship with her had been built on a solid foundation of sex, sex and more sex.

Rachel's responses to his touch – the unrestrained fire that lit her eyes and flooded his senses when his mouth connected with hers – had acted like a drug and he was totally out of control. And when he was buried inside her, as close as he could physically get to her, it wasn't enough. It was as though her physical being was only the first layer of what he wanted to get at – he wanted to know her in every sense of the word.

She had given herself to him in the intimate sense and he couldn't wait until she bared herself to him emotionally as well. He wanted her, _all_ of her. He knew she was so close to giving everything to him and that knowledge sent the blood pumping faster through his veins and he found the need building up again inside him.

Unrepentantly, he nudged her awake.

"Rach," he whispered, tightening his arms around her and rubbing his hardening cock against her thighs and between her ass cheeks.

"Mmm," she stirred, wiggling against him and making his situation almost painful.

From the half open window, an arid breeze blew through the room and he felt the goose bumps break out over her skin.

"Noah?" she mumbled sleepily, her fingers flexing where they rested on the forearm that was wrapped around her waist.

"'Morning baby." He murmured, kissing her neck.

She half turned and glanced over her shoulder at him, smiling tiredly.

An iron fist slammed into his gut as he looked into her sleepy, dark gaze. She was so beautiful, her cheeks flushed pink and all that gorgeous silky hair tousled around her shoulders.

"Good Morning," she returned, rolling onto her back, threading her fingers through his hair and accepting his kiss.

Softness radiated from her in the early morning light and he pulled her closer.

"Last night was fucking awesome," he growled into her ear, running his large hands over her stomach and up to cup her breasts.

Rachel let out a sigh, still half asleep.

"I vote we stay in bed today," he said, tugging on her earlobe with his teeth and thumbing her nipples. "What do you think?"

"I think that's a wonderful idea," she smiled up at him, her own hands roaming over his back, "but we do have a four year old under this same roof, who will probably be awake in oh…." She glanced at the clock. "an hour or so. So those plans may be a little hard to implement."

"I know what else is hard and ready for some action," he growled, rolling her underneath him and nudging his cock against her entrance.

"Well I suppose we should make the most of the time we have then," she managed with a breathless laugh. "Condom?"

They made it through two rounds and were midway through the third when they heard Eli's voice getting closer as he wandered around the house searching for them.

Puck groaned as Rachel paused in her movements; she was in the process of riding him harder than a jockey on Derby Day and he was balls deep and cursing his son's impeccable timing.

His hands tightening on her thighs "Quick, just keep quiet and he'll go away." He whispered hopefully.

"Noah," she lifted off him, ignoring his grumbles. "We can't."

He sighed, "Cock blocked by a fucking four year old. When the hell does he move away to college again?"

Rachel tugged the sheet over them just as Eli came barrelling into the room, launching himself on the bed and jumping on Puck's stomach.

"Hey Buddy, be careful ok?" He shifted his son further up to his chest and away from his arousal, frowning at the giggle Rachel couldn't quite manage to stifle.

"Morning!" Eli exclaimed happily, leaning over to smack a noisy kiss on Rachel's cheek.

"Morning Pumpkin," she returned easily, "Did you sleep well?"

"Yep! Me and Hank slept good. Can I watch cartoons Rach? In here?" he gestured to the television that sat on the dresser and Puck shook his head quickly. There was something just wrong about having his son in there, on the same bed he had completely railed Rachel on – several times over. He was new to this parenting thing and he wasn't exactly sure what things were going to scar his kid for life and he wasn't about to take any chances.

"Nah bud, how bout we go watch in the living room, k? We'll watch some Ninja Turtles on the big screen."

Eli nodded happily and ran out of the room and Puck reluctantly pushed back the sheet and got to his feet. Rachel didn't move, watching with an amused grin as he stuffed himself into sweatpants, his arousal still rampantly evident.

"Do you want me to get up too?" she asked, yawning and stretching out across the bed, clearly intending on not moving anytime soon.

"Nah, I got this. You should catch a few more hours of shut eye. I think I wore you out last night." He smirked and she snorted.

"Ditto," she retorted, "but thank you. I could use a little more rest." Her eyes were already fluttering shut when he kissed her temple and tucked the sheet in around her.

When she awoke later, the alarm clock sitting amongst the clutter on his nightstand confirmed it was well past 9am. Rachel stretched and felt the pull of muscles that had been underused for some time and she smiled, turning her head to the side only to see the space beside her in bed empty.

She clamped down on the sense of disappointment, the longing to wake and feel the security of his arms wrapped tight around her, as they had been when they'd awoken together at dawn.

The sound of giggles from the kitchen made the yearning go away as she remembered the circumstances that brought her here, into his life and into his bed; Eli.

She snuggled into her pillow and breathed in the masculine scent that clung to his bedding, the rich feeling of contentment coursing through her as her thoughts turned to her brother and the man that had so openly committed to loving him, without reservation.

He was such a good father already; he had exceeded any and all of the expectations she had of him and his parenting abilities. With that that fact in the forefront of her mind, she did something she'd rarely allowed herself to do – she daydreamed.

She entertained the idea of the three of them becoming a real family in this small, charming house that (with a rigorous cleaning schedule and a few small touches here and there) could become a real home. It wasn't that preposterous was it? She could be a teacher in Lima and enjoy her work just as much as she had in Long Island. Eli would have his father full time, and she would have the man that set her on fire with just the briefest of glances and the slightest touch of his hand.

He was nothing that she had imagined for herself but everything she wanted. A future with Noah that included Sunday dinners with his mother and long meandering walks with Eli and Hank, seemed so obtainable now. It was a life that blinded her with its potential for happiness and was one that she had begun to crave without even realizing it.

Rachel got out of bed and reached for a shirt from the pile on the floor and pulled it over her head. She glanced at herself in the full length mirror as she passed it on her way to the door, stopping as she caught sight of the slogan on the t-shirt: 'Long story short, I fucked her.' She stared at her reflection and then giggled. Deciding it was more than appropriate given the circumstances and confident that Eli, as intelligent as he was, would be unable to read the string of words, she yawned and made her way out to the two most important men in her life.

She paused in the doorway to the kitchen and watched them as they say together at the kitchen table. Rachel smiled as Puck looked up and caught her eye, a smirk gracing his full lips as he took in her attire.

"Nice shirt," he deadpanned as she entered the room and came to stand between his and Eli's chair.

"I thought you'd like it," she replied airily as she kissed the top of Eli's head.

"Is that what you're eating for breakfast?" she asked a moment later in disbelief, noticing the Popsicle each boy held in their hands, and the ring of lime green around Eli's mouth.

"Yep," Puck answered blithely as his arm curled around her waist, "We saved you the cherry one because Eli said it was your favorite."

Rachel closed her eyes for a few seconds, reigning in the responsible side of her psyche that wanted to lecture them on proper nutrition.

"Thank you," she said instead, reaching for the last Popsicle in the carton on the table, unwrapping it and taking a bite. Puck tugged her and she fell into his lap, smiling as she felt his lips – icy cold from his 'breakfast' – press against her cheek.

"How was your nap?" he murmured lowly into her ear.

"Lonely." she answered just as quietly, tilting her head slightly and suppressing a shiver as he nuzzled her neck. He groaned, wishing fervently that they'd been able to finish what they'd started before Eli interrupted them.

Rachel gave him a knowing look before turning her attention to Eli, watching as he offered Hank a lick of his Popsicle, grimacing and then sighing as the little boy took another bite straight after the dog had given it a hearty lick. Puck's hand came to rest on her bare thigh, his fingers lightly tracing circles over her skin and she let it go.

"I need to finish the laundry." Rachel commented as the last of the icy treat slid down her throat, "I got distracted last night and didn't get the second load into the dryer."

"Distracted? Really?" He queried innocently with a quirk of his eyebrow.

She smiled and punched him lightly as she rose and headed for the small laundry room attached to the kitchen, while Puck pretended to howl in pain until Eli disrupted into giggles.

She'd already washed and dried one load of her and Eli's clothing the night before, so the load she tugged out of the washer was made up of their mud bogging clothes. They were ruined beyond repair and Rachel wondered why she didn't have the presence of mind to just throw them out. Unexplainably she had the urge to keep them, whether for memories sake or for perhaps future trips to the mud bog she wasn't sure.

She had only a few garments for the next load so, looking around and spying Puck's own laundry basket, she decided to do him a favor and start his own wash. She felt so domestic sorting out his laundry, separating the whites from the colors. It was like playing house and only added to the fantasy she'd conjured up earlier.

She grinned as she heard Eli's childish pitch and Puck's rich baritone floating from the kitchen and started humming as she checked the pockets of his jeans out of habit. He had four dollars worth of loose change and a gas receipt in the front pocket and a folded up piece of yellow notebook paper in the back.

Rachel wondered if it was important or something that could be thrown away and without thinking, she unfolded it, the words 'WHAT A WOMAN SHOULD KNOW (According to Puck)' written across the top of the page in his messy scrawl, immediately grabbing her attention.

Her eyes flew across the page as she read in astonishment all about what he believed a woman should know. Idly she supposed the list would be considered amusing if it wasn't so insulting – and hurtful. The list made it apparent what he really thought about her; that she was so superficial she would put stainless steel appliances before her own heart and that she was inept in her mothering skills since apparently she had no knowledge of what little boys _really_ needed.

Tears prickled her eyes as he made fun of her penchant for organization and she felt indignant at the assumption she would end up as a dried out spinster if left to her own devices.

She clutched the paper in her fist and felt her stomach roll.

He'd played her. Nothing that had happened between them had been spontaneous and magical at all. It had all been part of some elaborate scheme he'd come up with to make her more appealing to him and turn her into someone he consider worthy of raising his son.

She wanted to burst into tears. She had trusted him, he had lured her in with his infuriating smirk and lovely arms; disarming her with eyes that were knowing and sometimes compassionate, and a touch that could melt every last one of her defenses.

What was she supposed to do now?

She could still feel the ghost of his hands running over her body - could still taste him on her tongue and smell him on her skin. She should be revolted knowing that he had used her this way, but as hurt as she was by the revelation of his deception, she was more devastated by the knowledge that from here on out she could never lie in bed and pretend that there wasn't a large cold spot beside her where he should be laying. She would be haunted by the memory of the warmth of his naked skin, pressed against her as his body curled around her and the way he moaned her name as he thrust inside her for the very first time.

She was furious at him; he had lived up to his promise and shown her exactly how it could be between a man and a woman, ruining the possibility of experiencing that with anyone else, and in the process destroying the one chance she had of having that with him.

***/***

Puck knew the second she came back into the kitchen and he saw her face that something was very wrong. There was a strained tightness around her mouth and her eyes were pained.

"Rach?" He got to his feet and reached a hand out towards her, frowning as she neatly side stepped him.

"I think it's time to tell Eli," she said stiltedly, not meeting his gaze. "It's not fair to keep it from him any longer. He deserves to know who you are."

"Okay," he said slowly, "Um, right now?"

Rachel nodded jerkily and Puck gave her a searching look before dropping to his knees in front of Eli's chair.

"Hey bud, Rachel and I have something we need to tell you." He waited until he had Eli's full attention before he continued. "Eli, I'm your daddy. I didn't know about you for a long time but now that I do, I'm really, really happy."

Eli just stared back at him with wide eyes.

"What do you think?" Puck asked somewhat nervously when that news failed to get a response. "Is it ok with you that I'm your Dad?"

Eli shook himself from his stupor and flung himself into Puck's arms.

"I always wanted a Daddy," he whispered into Puck's ear.

Puck held him tight, his heart exploding with those five words. When Eli pulled away, his little hands still resting on Puck's shoulders, his brow was furrowed. "Does this mean Hank's my brother?"

Puck barked with laughter and glanced at Rachel. His smile dropped as he saw her chest heaving, like she was desperately trying not to succumb to tears and the way her lip trembled was a dead giveaway that her neutral expression was nothing more than a phony mask.

"Hank!" Eli yelled, scuttling out of the room to find his canine friend, "You're not my brother, but Puck's my Daddy! Did ya hear, Hank? I have a Daddy!" They heard him crowing happily as he ran down the hall, darting between rooms.

"Rach-" She was backing away before he had even risen from his position.

"I think I should go," she said, not meeting his eyes, "and give you and Eli the opportunity to get used to the idea of you being his father."

Puck's eyes narrowed, a feeling of uneasiness running down his spine.

"You know, fishing is one thing, fixing cars and such," she was babbling Puck noted, that was never a good thing. "But you should spend some one on one time, settling in and parenting his daily routine. It's not all popsicles for breakfast and bathing Hank in the kitchen sink."

There was an edge of censure to her tone that annoyed him. "Hey, you had fun bathing Hank too."

Rachel nodded, looking down at her bare feet. "I did, I enjoyed all of it." She admitted honestly. "But not everyday can be camping holidays and mud bogs. Life isn't like that, Noah. It's not all fun and games. Like it or not, there are responsibilities and there are obligations that can't be ignored."

He stared at her appraisingly; she was freaking out. But about what? The fact that Eli so readily accepted him as his father, dredging up her insecurities in regards to being replaced in the little boys affections, or the fact that he had made love to her the night before and had virtually admitted to her that she was it for him?

She had confessed that she was frightened by love and by lust, but he thought he had soothed her with his words and his body. Could she be questioning what had happened between them? Did she just need some time? He shook his head. Experience had taught him that this woman had a tendency to over think and analyze her every decision and he was not giving her space and the opportunity to determine that she was making a mistake with him.

"You're right," he surprised her by agreeing. "Life isn't a non stop holiday, but it's about creating a balance between work and play, responsibilities and fun." He walked towards her and laced his fingers through hers. "I think we're doing alright at working that out, don't you? I think we're pretty great together."

Rachel stared at their joined hands, feeling the heaviness in her heart.

She tugged her hand away, shaking her head. "I have to go." He frowned, reaching out to grab her shoulder as she turned.

"Hey, wait just a damn minute!" Once again she shrugged off his touch and he felt his temper stir, "What the hell is going on with you? Go where? Rachel, talk to me."

"I can't-"

"You can." He hauled her back towards him, his eyes roaming her face. "Rach, I know last night was intense; it was fucking mind blowing. But you can't run away just because you're feeling a little overwhelmed. Not when this thing between us is shaping up to be so fucking spectacular. Most people search their whole lives for someone to make them feel this way and they aren't lucky enough to ever experience it."

She wanted so badly to believe that he felt it too, that last night had affected him just as much as it had her. Rachel had thought at the time that he was right there with her, marvelling at the fact that her body must have been custom made, just for him - that's how perfect they fit together. But she wasn't his perfect fit. It seemed he had set criteria for the woman of his dreams and on that list he had made himself, of what a woman (_his_ _woman_) should know, she hadn't checked off even one point.

"I need some time to myself," she whispered, feeling a tear slide down her cheek. His expression changed, concern overriding the confusion and the anger he felt at the thought she might break off their relationship before they got close to tapping the potential he was sure it had.

"Baby, tell me what's changed," he coaxed gently, wiping away her tear with his thumb. "What happened?"

"Nothing happened," she denied miserably, turning her face from his probing gaze. "I've been trying so hard to be this whole other person, and in doing so I've lost sight of myself. It's ridiculous, because as much as you and Eli may wish I was fundamentally different, I can't change who I am, Noah."

"What are you talking about Rachel? We don't want you to change," he told her, confused.

"Don't you?" He looked down as she pressed something into his hand.

"You found my list." He stared down at the familiar yellow paper, creased and folded into a small square. "Where did you find this?" He didn't mean it to come out as an accusation and he cursed when he saw the look of deepening hurt etched across her face.

"I found it the back pocket of your jeans," she returned evenly. Her gaze hardened. "Why? Were you looking for it? Did you need to check my progress and see how well I was doing? Write my report card?"

She stepped back, "It seems your warped behaviour modification planned worked to a point, Noah. I let go, I cut lose. You successfully managed to extract that stick from my ass and all in one week too. That's impressive; perhaps_ you_ deserve a gold star." She crossed her arms defensively and his gut sunk.

"Rachel-"

"Don't." she warned, running a shaky hand through her sleep mussed hair. "I'm not interested in your explanations or excuses. You lied to me. Worse, you_ played_ me."

"I didn't." he denied strongly. "Rachel, my feelings for you are real-"

"They are? Which me?" she cut in. "From the very beginning you were trying to change me into something else. You want me to be free and wild and you constantly belittle the things that are important to me. I'm not Shelby, Noah. You can deny it all you want but the fact is, you miss her. You say you weren't in love with her, but this list-" she grabbed it back from him. "This list tells medifferent. Spontaneity, passion…that's her, that's not me. All this time, you were looking for a replacement for her. You don't want _me_."

Her voice broke on the last word and he couldn't take it anymore. Despite her protests, he swept her up in his arms and pressed his lips to her hair as he crushed her to his chest. He didn't know where to begin to tell her how far off she was with her assumptions. She was nothing like Shelby and he was fervently thankful for that.

"Was it fun for you?" She sniffed, pushing ineffectively at his chest. "It must have been so gratifying when you saw me becoming exactly what you wanted me to be, giving myself up for you."

"You didn't give yourself up for me," he contradicted quietly, "you became yourself."

"That just shows you know nothing about me," her anger was back and this time when she pushed, he let her go. "You know nothing about women, Noah Puckerman." She tossed the list at him in disgust. "What a woman should know," she mocked, "like you're some kind of expert on the subject. Write a book why don't you, you sanctimonious son of a bitch."

That was the second time she'd called him that, but this time she actually cursed. It was probably wrong of him to think that he was proud of her progress, given the argument at hand.

"Rachel, please. Just let me explain." He tried again.

"By all means," she said sweetly, her eyes flashing. "I'll invite you to my wedding. You shall have about 30 seconds or so in the receiving line. The registry details will be included in the invitation. Finn and I are partial to stainless steel as you well know. It's expensive, but I think after all this you'll owe me something big."

"You're not marrying Finn." Puck said firmly, his jaw locking at the thought.

"Yes I am." She countered stubbornly. "We're going to have a huge wedding, with a five course dinner and a god damn 12 piece orchestra. You'll need to watch Eli while we honeymoon in Hawaii; we'd take him of course but sometimes, mommies and daddies just need some alone time." she taunted viciously, even as the thought of physically intimacy with someone other than Noah turned her stomach. "And then, we'll come home and live a deliriously happy, germ free life; with rules and schedules. And if I die in my forties, a dried up prune because I allowed myself to live a life of boring predictability, then I won't care." She actually stamped her foot and as she opened her mouth again, no doubt to continue her rant, he snapped.

"For fucks sake woman, for the last time you are _not_ marrying Finn Hudson."

"Yes I am!"

"No you're not!" he roared back. "Let me tell you something Berry, that dude is not the least bit interested in marrying you. If he was, he would have done it already, instead of dragging his heels and mooning over Quinn Fabray."

"What did you say?" She gasped, her face draining of color as she reeled back as if she'd been slapped.

_Shit._

He ran his hand through his hair in agitation. It was too late now; the cat was out of the bag. "Rachel," he tried to be as gentle as he could. "Finn's not going to marry you. He's in love with Quinn and as much as it kills her, because she's your best friend and she doesn't want to hurt you, she loves him too."

She shook her head blindly, slapping at the hand that was trying to reach for her. "You're lying!"

"I'm not," he promised. "You know I'm not. You know deep down that you and Finn were never going to work out, and Quinn, she understands him better than you ever could."

"What are you talking about? How do you know this? How long has this been going on?" she leaned back against the kitchen chair, questions written all over her face. "My god, were the three of you all laughing at me, this whole time?"

"No," he hurriedly shook his head, "I think it's always been there between them and they just couldn't ignore it any longer. I dunno, I guessed. I'm sorry, Rachel."

He took a deep breath, shoving his hands into his pockets. She honestly looked devastated by the bombshell he'd just dropped. Maybe he underestimated the depth of her feelings for Finn, but he didn't think so. He figured finding out your best friend was fucking you over was the thing that stung the most.

"Whatever's happening between Finn and Quinn doesn't matter," he tried to brush it aside. "What about us Rachel? That list was stupid, I wrote it when I first met you, when I was mad at you for being so uptight and perfect all of the time." He paused. "You know you were wrong earlier, you are passionate and you can be spontaneous. I thought I had to show you how to loosen up and have fun, for Eli's sake, but I was wrong in thinking I had anything to teach you."

"You're awesome Rach, just as you are. You're a complete contradiction of everything you know? You're fire and ice - hard sometimes, but underneath it you're really, really soft. You care about everything so much, but you try not to let yourself be affected by any of it." She was pinned by his gaze and fidgeted uncomfortably, her breath hitching painfully in her chest.

"I know you say you're content with your life, but you're kind of restless as well. You want to structure every second of Eli's day but in the end you just want him to smile and have fun…..I know all of this about you Rachel and I wouldn't trade that knowledge for anything. I don't want to change you at all, I just want to love you." He held his breath waiting for her response.

Rachel's heart leapt at his admission but she forced herself to remain stoic. He hadn't been honest with her in regards to anything up until that point, so she'd be a fool to buy into his sincerity now.

"I don't believe you." She told him steadily. "More importantly, I don't want to hear it, because I don't want to love you." She was ashamed at how easily the lie fell from her lips and she looked away, missing the pain that flashed over his face.

"This was a mistake." She decided. "I think we both rushed into this for Eli's sake, thinking we could be something we can't. The fact is that we're just not compatible and we would never work as a couple."

"You're wrong." He stated surely, determined to make her see.

She made a frustrated sound in the back of her throat and picked up a few garments from the pile of folded laundry she had placed on the table, exiting the room and heading towards the bathroom. Puck immediately went to follow but was intercepted by Eli who had passed Rachel in the hall and was looking after her with a frown.

"Daddy? Is Rachel ok?" That word from his son's lips stopped time and Puck found himself grinning, despite his inner turmoil. Eli smiled hesitantly back and they just gazed goofily at each other until the bathroom door opened again and Rachel emerged in her trademark linen shorts and short sleeved button blouse.

She stopped as she saw them standing there, before forcing a smile for Eli's sake and tossing Puck the shirt she had been wearing. Rachel scooped Eli up and walked towards the kitchen, murmuring quiet words that Puck couldn't make out. He hurried after them - the t-shirt clutched in his fist - and when he caught up, Rachel was hugging the little boy tight and kissing his cheek.

"I've just told Eli that I'm going to get out of your hair and let you two enjoy the rest of the week by yourselves." She explained lightly, smoothing Eli's hair and refusing to look in Puck's direction.

"The rest of the week…" he repeated dumbly. "But you'll be just at the motel right?"

She shook her head, making a funny face at Eli who giggled. "I'm driving home to Long Island. I can fly back on Sunday to collect him or you can bring him to me – that's your choice."

Puck stood rooted to the spot as she put Eli down and searched for a plastic bag to put her fresh laundry in. When she had her purse slung over her shoulder he snapped out of his daze. "You can't just leave." He blurted out. "What if he needs you? What if I need you?"

"You'll both be fine." She answered, looking everywhere but at him directly.

"Rachel, please. Just stay. We can work this out, I know we can."

She didn't bother with a response, she just took Eli's hand and walked towards the front entry and out onto the porch. She knelt on the step as she ran her hands over Eli's small frame as if she was committing every last inch of him to her memory.

"I'm going to pack up my things at the motel; I'll leave anything of Eli's I think you'll need at the reception desk for you to collect." She directed that over Eli's shoulder before gathering him into her arms.

"Who loves you the most?" She asked quietly as she buried her face into his hair.

"You do." Eli answered softly as he hugged her back.

"You'll be good for Puck-" she stopped, correcting herself forcefully, "for your daddy. You make sure you brush your teeth before bed," she instructed firmly as she pulled back, her hands still on his arms, "and you promise me you'll eat at least one piece of fruit a day."

"I promise," Eli mumbled, biting his lip. Rachel eyed him carefully.

"Will you be alright Pumpkin?" She asked softly, suddenly unsure. "You want to stay with your daddy, don't you?"

Puck found himself hoping Eli said no, so then Rachel would have no choice but to stay for the allotted two weeks like she'd pledged- he knew she wouldn't deny him and Eli their time together, and as much as she wanted to escape his presence at that moment, if the little boy needed her, she wouldn't leave. But Eli was nodding and Rachel was giving him one last hug and then she was walking to her car.

He vaulted over the porch railing and jogged to catch up. "You can't go yet," he said, catching her hand. "I haven't had a chance to look over your car or service it, or anything." It was strange to hear himself ramble in a distinctively Rachel Berry manner, but he knew he had to stall her. If he just brought himself some more time he could fix it; he could fix _them_, he was sure of it.

"You drove all the way down here from New York; I gotta make sure it's safe for you to drive all that way back."

She finally met his gaze and smiled sadly, tugging her hand from his. "Thank you for your concern Noah, but I'll be fine. I've been looking after myself for a long time; I don't need anyone else to do it for me."

"Rachel…" he touched her cheek, his eyes imploring her to stay. "Please."

She shook her head. "I can't do this Noah, not when I can't trust you." That stunned him. She _had_ trusted him, she'd said so last night and it wasn't just said in the heat of passion. Wasn't she trusting him now? She was leaving him with the most important thing in her world, confident that Eli would be safe with him and would come to no harm.

"We should never have crossed that line." he shook himself out of his stupor and tuned back in to what she was saying. "We have a little boy to care for; he doesn't need to witness this tension between us. I knew that, and I gave into this..." she waved her arm, "attraction anyway. That was wrong of me. We should just forget this week ever happened. " She slid into the driver's seat and shut the door after her.

Puck could only step back as she turned the ignition, feeling helpless until a small hand creep into his.

Eli was waving goodbye with his free hand and the look on his face told Puck that he knew something was wrong and it upset him. Rachel must have seen it too because she rolled down her window and rested her forearm on the door frame.

"You are going to have so much fun." She told Eli brightly, putting a lot more effort into making her next smile seem believable. "I want you to call me every night and I want to hear all about the exciting things you've done, alright Pumpkin?"

Eli nodded, and Puck could see that her words offered him some reassurance.

"Okay," he replied tentatively, still unsure.

Puck knew what he needed and picked him up, walking back towards the vehicle so Rachel could kiss him goodbye again.

"Love you," the little boy murmured, his face pressed into her neck so he couldn't see the torment that flashed over her face as she squeezed her eyes shut and hugged him fiercely. But Puck caught it.

"He's going to be fine." He promised hoarsely and Rachel choked back her sob as she pressed her lips to Eli's face and drew back.

"Love you too Pumpkin," she said, smiling again through the sheen of tears in her eyes. She glanced quickly at Puck and then back to her brother. "And you'll take care of Puck and Hank for me too, ok? Vegetables. Fruit. Cereal." She listed, "No more popsicles for breakfast boys, I mean that." She fixed Eli with a faux stern look.

Eli grinned boyishly and rested his head against Puck's chest.

She blew him a kiss and then her eyes strayed to Puck's. She didn't look away immediately, she just gazed at him, and Puck had the distinct feeling she was committing everything about him to her memory as well.

That didn't sit well with him. This all felt too final. And he and Rachel were anything but over.

Clearly she didn't agree. "Goodbye."

They watched as she backed carefully down the drive and waved half heartedly as she pulled out into the quiet street, until the little blue Nissan was out of sight. Puck felt the loss immediately and he knew from Eli's sudden quietness, that his son felt it too.

"Well dude," he said morosely, "I guess it's just you and me."

* * *

_**A/N 2: Let me just say that I, in no way, harbour any hatred towards Texans :) **__**The family in the last chapter served a purpose, but the way they were written was in no way a reflection of how I perceive the people of that great state to be. I 'met' a lovely one this week, Harpo2112 – I hope I didn't bruise your feelings too badly xoxo**_

_**One more chapter guys! And it's gonna be loooooooong!**_


	14. The Beginning of the End

_**A/N: So sorry that I took my sweetass time replying to the last round of reviews. You guys totally blew me away and again, I cannot thank you all enough for your support for this fic xoxox**_

_**This chapter ended up being long (like super long), so I've broken it up into two chapters so you can take an intermission if you like – make yourself a coffee, grab a snack….catch you all at the end :)**_

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Rachel had burst into tears the moment she had left Puck's driveway and was still crying 12 hours later when she found herself standing outside Finn's two story house in Mystic, Long Island; the drive back from Lima one giant blur. She rang the doorbell numbly, rubbing her hands up and down her arms to ward off the chill from the sea breeze as she waited.

The door swung open, revealing a worried, pajama clad Quinn Fabray and Rachel felt her anger rise. _**So it was true.**_ Acting on impulse and not pausing to contemplate her actions, Rachel's palm shot out and connected painfully with Quinn's cheek. "You bitch," Rachel hissed, feeling a hollow satisfaction at the sight of Quinn standing there, stunned, holding the side of her face. "So it's true then. You and Finn have been sleeping together behind my back this entire time."

Quinn shook her head, tears immediately welling in her expressive green eyes. "Yes it's true." She whispered, "Finn and I are together now. But it only happened in this past week. We haven't been sneaking around - I wouldn't do that to you."

Rachel just stared at her, "But you did do this to me," she replied bitterly. "You're supposed to be my best friend." She paused for effect, letting that sink in. "He is - _was_ - my fiancée, Quinn. I'm wearing his ring!"

At that moment, Finn's tall frame appeared behind Quinn and he took a minute to survey the scene and the two women having a standoff in his entry way, before placing his large hands on the blonde's shoulders. His eyes did not miss the reddening outline of a handprint on Quinn's cheek or the uncharacteristic fury in Rachel's eyes, vying with a look of undiluted betrayal.

"Rach, why don't you come in?" He suggested quietly, "The three of us need to sit down and talk." He gently pulled Quinn back from the door to allow the brunette in, and as she passed, his arm tightened around Quinn's midsection and he dropped a quick kiss on her temple. "Q, why don't you make some tea? Rachel's had a long drive." Finn conveyed with his eyes that he'd like a moment alone with the other woman and Quinn looked as though she wanted to argue but then reluctantly agreed with a soft, "Alright."

He nodded to her before guiding Rachel through to the den where he took a seat next to her on the sofa and watched her as she sank wearily into the cushions, a shaky hand coming up to sweep the bangs away from her eyes. She looked exhausted, Finn noted. Her eyes were bloodshot and puffy, her face red and splotchy and her hair was in complete disarray. She looked like she was on the verge of an emotional breakdown, and to Finn, who had never seen Rachel looking anything less than 100% composed and perfectly put together, it was a disconcerting sight.

"I'm sorry, Rachel." He began regretfully, his brown eyes full of sorrow. "I never meant for this to happen."

She turned her head, unable to look at him as she posed the question that had been weighing on her mind for the last few days. "Why did you ask me to marry you, Finn?" She whispered, her throat tight. "You never loved me, did you? There's always been something missing between us, yet you asked – and I accepted – and we were going to live this," she paused as she searched for the right word, "this _lie_. You've never looked at me like I saw you look at Quinn just now. Are you in love with her?"

He took his time answering, running his hand awkwardly through his hair as he tried to formulate an explanation that he hadn't put much thought into until now. "I think I've been in love with Quinn all my life," he began slowly, staring at a spot on the floor. "I met her in the third grade you know, and she was just so sweet and pretty…" he trailed off and Rachel took a deep breath, surprised at how painful it was to hear the inflection in his voice, the softening in his tone as he talked about her best friend. \

_Had he always sounded like that?_ It was evident to her just from the way Finn had held Quinn to his chest for that split second in the entry way, that he was harboring some deep rooted feelings for her and Rachel felt foolish to have not picked up the signs; the glances, the smiles – she knew they were there to be seen if she'd only been paying attention.

"We started dating in our sophomore year and when I became quarterback, Quinn was already on the cheerleading team and took over as captain when we were juniors. We were the power couple so to speak of our school; Prom King and Queen, Homecoming, you name it."

Rachel fidgeted, scratching her nail against her linen shorts as she listened. Finn and Quinn's high school experience was a complete contrast to her own which, as she had told Puck, was marred by bullying, as her dreams of stardom and penchant for the uncool activities such as Glee Club and Theatre isolated her from her peers and made her a target for their harassment.

Her chest tightened as she thought of Noah; she would not cry.

"Quinn got pregnant in our senior year," Finn continued.

Her head shot up at that, and Rachel could only gape at him. Quinn had never told her that! He met her gaze steadily and she saw the pain and regret in his eyes. "We talked about it and after we told her parents, they-" he paused, his eyes closing briefly as his jaw tightened. "We," he corrected forcefully, "decided that it was best she get an abortion." It was apparent from his demeanor that it hadn't been his decision at all.

"Oh Finn," she murmured, temporarily letting go of her hurt and her anger, to place her palm on his forearm in some small measure of comfort. He smiled briefly.

"It was the right thing to do. We knew we were too young to be parents and we had discussed adoption briefly, but Quinn's parents thought it would be too traumatic for her, having to give up the baby."

Rachel nodded in understanding. She knew Quinn and she agreed with the Fabrays; giving up her child would be something her friend would never had forgiven herself for and intuitively, she guessed that aborting her baby was something that had scarred her deeply seeing as though she had never breathed a word of it to Rachel in over 10 years of friendship.

"What happened after she had the abortion?" She asked softly, still touching his arm.

He shrugged somewhat moodily. "We tried to stay together, but it wasn't the same, you know? We hadn't known about the pregnancy for long but it felt like there was this large gaping hole between us where our baby should have been." He sighed heavily. "We broke up a few months later and went off to college. We didn't even try to keep in touch."

Finn looked at her again. "Then I ran into her that day in the supermarket and at first it killed me to even look at her, but I'd missed her. It was so surreal to see her so _happy_. I hadn't remembered her that way at all because those last few months had been so hard on both of us. I just…I wanted to spend some time with her, so I said yes when she said she knew this great girl who would be perfect for me." He tried to smile at her but the attempt failed.

"So you dated me because you wanted to get close to Quinn again?" Rachel asked incredulously.

"No! Well, maybe at first-" he could see that he had upset her with that revelation and hurried to correct her assumption. "But I continued to date you because I liked you."

"And you proposed, why?" She asked again. It was suddenly so important that she know exactly _why_ this man had wanted to marry her and make a life with her and Eli. She wanted to know every reason he had for contemplating her as his future life mate, wanted to know his thought patterns and any hidden agenda behind it – she told herself it had nothing to do with Noah and his recently revealed subterfuge.

He wrapped his much larger hand around hers and waited until she was looking right at him before he spoke. "I proposed because I wanted to be your husband." Finn said simply. "You're nice and I enjoy your company. We dated for almost a year and I thought marriage was the next step for us."

He regarded her thoughtfully. "You remind me of my mom, a lot. She raised me all by herself after my father died and it was really hard on her. She had to work and take care of me and she never had any time to herself. She was so lonely. I didn't want you to feel that way and I wanted Eli to have a father. Boys need a dad, you know that. That's the reason you agreed to marry me after all."

She averted her eyes when she saw the gently reproach in his. "Not the only reason." She mumbled defensively.

"It wasn't wrong of you to want stability for Eli, Rach. I wanted that for him too. I wanted to take care of both of you and for us to be a family. But I'm not his dad, Puck is – and he seems to be doing a good job of it too."

Rachel scoffed, then sighed grudgingly, "Yes, despite my overwhelming expectations to the contrary, Noah's turned into a wonderful father for Eli."

"He's worried about you." Finn and Rachel looked up to see Quinn in the doorway, her hands empty.

"No tea?" Finn asked with a small, lopsided grin.

Quinn shook her head, "I was eavesdropping," she admitted with a sheepish smile.

He chuckled and rose, "I'll go and put the kettle on then." Finn and Quinn exchanged another one of their not so covert glances that seemed to speak volumes, as Quinn walked further into the room and sat down carefully in the spot he had just vacated.

"What happened with Puck?" She prodded gently, after a moment.

Rachel straightened, "That's none of your concern." She replied stiffly, getting up and purposely moving to the chair opposite. Quinn sighed.

"Rachel, you have every right to be angry with me and I understand if you never forgive me-"

"Why Quinn?" Rachel interrupted. "Why didn't you tell me what really happened between you and Finn while you were in high school, and why on earth would you set me up with him when it's so clear to me now that you've been in love with him this entire time?"

Quinn clasped her hands together and, clamping down on the pain she felt whenever she thought about that dark time in her teenage years, she answered truthfully.

"I don't talk about it," she replied simply. "Ever. Not with anyone. Aborting my baby was the hardest decision I have ever made and one that I'll regret for the rest of my life. I mourn for that child every day and it's a very private pain."

Rachel noticed the way Quinn touched her palm to her flat stomach and she felt a rush of sympathy for her. "I'm sorry Quinn." she offered.

Quinn nodded and changed the subject. "I didn't know I was still in love with Finn when I set you two up. I was much like Finn in the regard that when I saw him again, I knew I wanted him back in my life but I wasn't sure in what capacity. You had just broken up with Jesse because he couldn't understand why you wouldn't hire a nanny to take care of Eli and go back to the stage. You needed to be with someone completely different – you needed someone nice, and in the beginning I honestly thought you and Finn made sense."

She took a deep breath, "It wasn't until Finn asked you to marry him that I realized how I felt about him. I think I had been suppressing it because I didn't want to dredge up all of the memories, but I was confronted by them everyday, watching him interact with Eli. Seeing Finn prepare to become Eli's father was like a slap in the face."

Quinn touched her cheek with a small smile and Rachel had the grace enough to wince apologetically. "He's going to be a great father someday; he would have _been_ a great father."

Rachel nodded in agreement. She had chosen him after all. "Why didn't you tell me then how you felt about him?"

Quinn smiled wryly, "Because I didn't want to upset all your carefully thought out plans."

Rachel frowned. She was starting to tire of the way people constantly ridiculed her meticulous organization. Planning was important; surely she wasn't the only one who was of the opinion that the future required forethought.

"And Finn was right when he said that boys need a father figure. I couldn't be selfish and ruin that for Eli, or for you. But then you found that picture of Puck and you seemed so determined to go to Lima and tell him that he was Eli's dad, and when he came back here and I saw how the two of you were with one another, I thought-"

"You thought something would develop between us and you wouldn't need to be the one to break up Finn and I." Rachel finished for her.

Quinn hesitated then nodded. "You don't love Finn, Rachel. You must know that you wouldn't have been happy in the long term."

Rachel loathed to admit it, but she had begun to see that. As much as she had craved the security a life with Finn would have guaranteed her, she knew now what she would have been missing out on. Being with Noah had changed her, as much as she stubbornly refuted the fact that she _could_ be changed. He had made her want for things; passion and excitement and the sensation of his arms closing around her. She knew now that it was a travesty to deny herself – or Finn – that feeling, for thinking she could live without love.

Once again, she burst into tears.

"Sweetie!" Quinn was alarmed by the loud, deep sobs that shook her best friends frame as she hugged herself and gulped for air, the tears streaming down her face.

"I love him." She managed to gasp out between sobs. "I love him."

"Finn?" Quinn asked with trepidation.

Rachel shook her head blindly, "Noah."

Quinn crossed to her side and perched on the edge of the chairs armrest, hugging her best friend tight. "Snuck up on you, did it?" She asked quietly, knowing exactly how hard Rachel had worked to keep her emotions under wrap and how carefully she guarded her heart. "What happened, Rach? Puck's been calling here on the hour looking for you since he couldn't reach you on your cell. He sounds frantic."

Rachel froze, her gaze turning worried, "Eli?"

"Eli is fine," Quinn assured her, brushing the brunette's hair back from her face. "He misses you. Sounds like they both do."

She just cried harder at that.

"Rachel…" Quinn reached for her hand and squeezed tightly, "tell me what happened." She invited softly. "You love him and it's clear that he probably loves you back-"

Rachel shook her head vigorously. "H-he doesn't love _me_, he loves her."

"Who is her?" Quinn asked confused.

"Shelby."

Quinn gaped. That couldn't be right. Obviously he must have had _some_ feelings for the woman, after all, he had dated her for 6 months and the product of that relationship was Eli. But Quinn had seen the way Puck's eyes followed every move that Rachel made, the way his mouth would quirk when she said something obnoxious and the way his gaze softened when he watched her with Eli. The man was smitten.

"Explain." Quinn demanded.

So Rachel told her, between sniffles, everything that had happened since she had first told Puck that Eli was his son – and not just the cliff notes version. She included her off road adventure, Puck's assurance that he had no interest in battling her for custody and taking Eli away from her, and the dinner Mrs. Puckerman had insisted they go to together. With painstaking detail, she gave Quinn a play by play of their interaction throughout the camping trip and their visit to the mud bog. She divulged that they had succumbed to one night of passionate love making and then, with the tears still rolling down her cheeks, she told Quinn about the list she had found that morning and the horrible things he'd written about her personality and her values. Quinn sat back, stunned. "So you left?"

Rachel nodded miserably.

"Oh honey," Quinn gave her another hug as Finn returned with a tray of tea, coffee and bottled water. "I'm sorry, but list or no list, that man is crazy about you. It may have started out as Puck thinking he had to loosen you up, but he knows you are a wonderful mother to Eli. I'm sure any disparaging views he had on your parenting – on you – were corrected in record time once he saw how much Eli adores you."

"He did say something to that effect," Rachel admitted. "But the fact remains that he was trying to mold me into Shelby Corcoran version 2.0 and I just couldn't stay, not knowing that while I was falling hopelessly in love with him, he was wishing my mother was there in my place."

"He doesn't wish that." Quinn corrected swiftly. "Rachel-"

She was interrupted by the sound of her cell phone and she gave her best friend a knowing look. 'That will be Puck." She said surely, retrieving the phone from the pocket of Finn's oversized sweatshirt that she was wearing over her pajamas and glancing at the display. She flashed the screen towards Rachel so she could see that it was indeed Puck calling before she answered.

"Hello Puck."

"Quinn!" Puck barked shortly, "Has Rachel called you?"

"Rachel's here." Quinn told him, flashing the woman in question a small smile.

Rachel was shaking her head, her eyes wide as she mouthed, "I'm not talking to him!"

Quinn frowned at her, just as Puck was demanding she pass over the phone. "I'm sorry Puck, but she's doesn't want to talk to you right now."

"Damn it Fabray! _Make_ her talk to me. She'd got it in her head that I think-"

"I know," Quinn interrupted. "I've told her she's crazy, that there's no way you only slept with her because on some subconscious level you equated it with sleeping with Shelby." Rachel glared at her as Finn almost dropped the coffee mug he was attempting to hand to Quinn.

On his end, Puck sucked in a breath. "WHAT THE FUCK?" he shouted into the phone loudly, angry and hurt that Rachel could believe that the night they had spent together had been about anyone but the two of them. His expletives had been heard by both Rachel and Finn, and Quinn had to hold the phone away from her ear so he didn't rupture her eardrum with his effusive denial. "Quinn, that's fucking ridiculous. I was over Shelby long before Rachel came barging into my life with her ugly sweater vests and those cute dimpled knees of hers."

Quinn smirked at his telling admission. She grinned at Rachel and covered the mouthpiece of her cell phone. "Told you," she said in a stage whisper.

Rachel just sniffed and stuck her chin proudly in the air.

"Put her on the phone Q." Puck ordered again. "This is such bullshit. There's no way she can say that I was thinking of anyone other than her when we were fucking. Shit, it has never been like that for me – I thought I made that clear."

Quinn was under no illusions that he wasn't completely ass backwards in love with Rachel, but as the best (albeit, momentarily estranged) friend, it was her duty to stick up for her, and hadn't she already cautioned Puck that she would take him down if he did anything that would hurt her?

"Well can you blame her for doubting you? What the hell was that list Puckerman?" She shot right back. "I warned you not to mess with her head."

Puck exhaled loudly, "I'm not messing with her head!" he let out a frustrated growl. "Quinn, seriously, I'm crazy about her. That list was fucking stupid; I don't even know why I wrote it-"

There was loud shrieking in the background, coupled with a dog barking.

"_Shit."_

Quinn listened intently as Puck mumbled unintelligently. It seemed like he had covered the mouthpiece and Quinn couldn't quite make out what was being said. "Is that Eli?" she asked when he came back on the line. "It's late Puck, what's he still doing up?" Out of the corner of her eye she saw Rachel straighten and she opened her mouth as if she was going to say something.

"He won't go to bed." Puck answered tiredly.

Quinn let out a small laugh, "Kids always object to bedtime." She told him, rolling her eyes at her best friend. "One trick that always works is if you tell him that you're really tired and ask him to tuck _you_ in. Then, when he willingly reads a story with you, he'll be out in no time."

"No, Q, you don't get it. He won't do anything I say." Puck rolled his shoulder restlessly, his gaze on his son. "He wouldn't eat anything I made him for lunch today and he refused to have his bath - he just yelled and yelled as I ran the water and screamed bloody murder when I tried to get him in. And he fucking threw his carrots at me during supper, like, at my head. I've tucked him in to bed five times already and he's all hyped up - he just climbs out again and starts running around." He sighed, defeated. "He's spinning around in circles right now, it's making me wanna puke just watching him."

Quinn, who had been listening to him recount his day just shook her head at Rachel as she mouthed an impatient "What?"

"I don't understand," she said finally. "What do you mean he threw his carrots at you?"

Rachel frowned at that, her eyebrows furrowed.

"And you say he's not listening to you at all?" Quinn checked. "No lunch, no bath, throwing food at the dinner table," she recounted. "And you've put him to bed five times?"

Rachel had heard enough. She reached out and grabbed the cell phone just in time to hear Puck pleading in the background for Eli to keep still. "Dude, you're making Daddy sick with all that twirling. Give it a rest, Bud."

"Noah, put Eli on the phone please," she requested steadily, proud of herself managing an even tone when just the sound of his voice had her throat constricting all over again.

"Rachel!" he sounded so relieved to hear her voice. "Babe, I've been worried sick about you!"

"Noah," she interrupted firmly, ignoring the way her stomach fluttered at that one _'babe'_. "Put Eli on now."

Puck sighed inaudibly at the frostiness in her tone and beckoned Eli over. He needed to deal with one disaster at a time. "Eli, Rachel's on the phone, she wants to talk to you."

Puck watched as Eli cautiously took the phone. Already his hyperactivity had diminished and a suitably chastised look was replacing the look of utter defiance he had been sporting for most of the day. Puck sank into the recliner as he watched Eli nod at whatever Rachel was saying to him.

A few "Yes Rachels" later and one "I love you", and Eli was handing the phone back to him and climbing up onto his lap. Puck held the phone up to his ear as Eli snuggled into his chest – it was as though the demon that had been inhabiting Eli's body since mid morning had been exorcised and the little boy was back to his sweet, adorable self.

Puck just stared at his son's angelic face, feeling unsettled. He'd been fooled by the kid's charm and cuteness before, but apparently there was a regular Dennis the Menace loitering inside him. He felt like he had to be on guard just in case, so he wasn't caught unaware again.

"Noah?"

"Oh, hey."

"I think he'll settle down for the night now," Rachel told him confidently.

"What did you say to him? He has been legit evil all day and you've managed to calm him down in the space of a few minutes. You have to teach me your Jedi mom tricks. My sanity's at stake here." He said seriously. He stifled a yawn and Rachel could hear the fatigue in his voice.

"I hate to break it to you, but there are no Jedi mom tricks, Noah. You have to make it clear to him that you are the adult and he must abide by your rules, that's all."

Puck made a sound of non committal.

"I mean it Noah. I know it's hard for you because you think parenting is some sort of popularity contest and you don't want to say no to him, but sometimes you have to. You're not his friend, you're his father." She spelled out for him. "What you say goes. Don't let him take advantage of you."

It was a relief for the both of them that they could forget about the incident that morning, just for a moment, and focus on Eli."I get it," He replied eventually, sighing. "I just don't want him to hate me. This is a lot harder than I thought it was going to be."

"He's not going to hate you," she replied, turning away from Finn and Quinn who were paying entirely too much attention to her conversation. She walked part of the way out of the room. "And don't be discouraged. This is your first day flying solo but it sounds as though you fared better than I would have thought."

"Do you think? I feel like I could sleep for a week and my house looks like a bomb went off in it – how the hell do you do this all day, every day?"

"I have rules." She replied, somewhat testily. "I have a schedule, I plan. Children are a joy, but they are also a huge responsibility and a lot of work."

He closed his eyes and leant back in the recliner, his hand absentmindedly rubbing Eli's back. "Point taken Rach."

She slid down the wall and sat on the carpet, just listening to him breathe on the other end of the phone. It was more comforting that she cared to admit.

"Do you think I can do this?" Puck asked quietly, after a while.

"Yes," she answered just as quietly, without hesitation. "I meant it when I said that you are going to be an amazing dad."

"Rach…" he sighed again, pained. "God, I miss you already. You have no idea how sorry I am about this morning." She thought she could identify regret and anguish in his tone but her feelings were so raw and the hurt from that morning was still so fresh, that she couldn't contemplate revisiting the subject even if she hoped (and suspected) that whatever words he said next would prove to be the magic fix and take all the uncertainty away.

Rachel sucked in a breath, "Don't Noah, please. I don't want to talk about it."

"We have to talk about it," he replied earnestly, "There's no way we can forget what happened last night, I don't want to."

"_Noah_," the way she stressed his name had him stop and listen. "I will answer my phone and talk to you about things that pertain to Eli's care only. I am not prepared to converse with you on any other subject. You don't have to like it, you don't have to agree with me, but that's the way it's going to be."

"Rachel, please." he made a sound of strangled frustration. So she didn't want to talk about it, well that was just too fucking bad, because there was no way he could just meekly step back and pretend last night hadn't happened when everything in him was screaming that he couldn't let her go. "Rach, I'm not going to give you up. I know I hurt you and shit, I hate myself for doing it, but I'm going to make it up to you. I will fix this, I swear."

The promise hung in the air until she managed a shaky, "Goodbye Noah."

"No! Rachel-"

"I'm hanging up. I'm sorry, I can't-" She shook her head, aware that he couldn't see her. Her chest was tightening again, making it difficult to breathe and the tears were too close to the surface for her to prolong the conversation any longer. "Unless it is in regards to Eli, please don't call me."

"Rach-" His tone was desperate now but she just couldn't take it any longer. The sound of his voice was just too much.

"Take care of him for me," she choked out. "Goodnight."

When she lifted her head, swiping at the moisture in the corners of her eyes, Finn and Quinn were both crouched in front of her, their expressions concerned. Finn leaned forward and pressed his lips to her forehead as Quinn rested her hand on Rachel's knee. She stared at them blankly, replaying the conversation with Noah over and over in her head.

"_**I'm not going to give you up."**_

She wasn't sure whether she should be aggravated or relieved to hear that. Truthfully, it was a mixture of both. She had regretted her words the moment they had left her lips, but her inbuilt defense mechanism had thrown them out there before they could be contained. It was all so confusing; she wanted to hold onto her anger and hurt him as much as he had hurt her, but more than anything she just wanted to turn back the clock to a time when she was blissfully ignorant of juvenile lists and unfavourable comparisons to her mother.

What she really wanted was to be curled up against him in bed, having him run his fingers lazily through her hair as they relived the night that had stripped her of every last one of her fears and left her emotionally bare until it was just his soul and hers and the expression of their bodies as they loved each other, temporarily, without reservation. It had been so easy in the morning to look into eyes that were staring softly down at her and believe that what they had shared was real, but now the doubt she was left with threatened to ruin everything.

Rachel didn't know whether she should call him back and beg him to tell her that she hadn't imagined how close he was to saying the three words she so desperately needed to hear last night and again this morning, or whether she should congratulate herself for neatly sidestepping an emotional entanglement that was surely _always_ going to lead to heartbreak and devastation.

She could do neither, so she did the only thing that made sense to her at the time – she buried her head in her hands and cried.

***/***

_The next evening…_

"Women," Puck spat moodily as he stared at the carpet, not for the first time that evening. He was still supremely frustrated by his conversation with Rachel the previous night.

"You don't have to tell me bro." The sentiment was echoed by Matt, who had come over to escape the chaos at his house where Tina and a gaggle of her girlfriends were assembling the favors for their upcoming wedding. Mike returned from the kitchen, fresh beers in his hand for Matt and himself and a can of Coke for Puck who had refused to drink around his son.

Mike sat sideways on one of the leather recliners, his feet hanging over the side as he sipped his beer and eyed his friend thoughtfully. Puck was different, Mike decided. He couldn't quite pinpoint the change, but current agitation aside, it was apparent that he was a lot more content and comfortable in his own skin. That restlessness he'd carried since his teenage years, his 'devil may care' attitude and his determination to avoid forming any kind of attachment outside of their core group of friends, was gone in the easy way he interacted with his son. It probably had a lot to do with little boy playing on the rug, but Mike had a feeling that a big part of could be attributed also to the woman whose name Puck had been cursing since they had arrived on his doorstep and hour ago - Rachel Berry.

It was clear that something had happened between them during her stay in Lima. The most telling thing was the fact that she had left, seemingly without warning if her body wash in Puck's shower and her underwear hanging on his clothes line was any indication. When Matt had joked about her shit hanging around, Puck had just about taken his head off, for no apparent reason. He had been checking his phone constantly; like he was worried he had received a text message and didn't hear the alert. Every time a car slowed down in the street he craned his neck to look out the window, as if he was just waiting for the diminutive brunette to walk through the front door.

It just wasn't normal Puck behavior and it could only mean one thing.

"Oh my God, you like her." Mike accused slyly.

"Who?" Puck asked dumbly.

Mike's eyebrow rose knowingly, "Rachel."

"No I don't," Puck denied immediately, his tone defensive.

"Yah-huh." Mike nodded his head, "You totally do. What happened man? Two weeks ago you were threatening to kill her for asking questions about you around town and now you're sitting her moping because she's gone."

"I'm not moping-"

"Yeah dude," Matt interjected. "You kind of are."

Mike nodded vigorously, "You're moody, you've mentioned her no less that 10 times since we got here," he pointed out, "And when Matt mentioned Tina's friend has been asking about you, you didn't even bat an eyelash. You know the one he was talking about right? The hot little blonde that you've been eyefucking for the better part of two years…."

Puck shrugged dismissively, "Maybe I've sworn off blondes, that's all. And Tina's friend is a little slutty; she's not exactly girlfriend material."

Mike's eyebrows shot through the roof. Oh, this was more serious than he thought.

"Who said anything about making her your girlfriend? I was just saying you need to tap that."

Puck rolled his eyes, "S'that all you ever think about?"

"Ah, yeah." Mike made a duh! face. "It's all you used to think about too," he pointed out.

"Yeah, well things are different now." Puck mumbled, staring at the can in his hand.

Matt and Mike exchanged a glance. "Fair enough," Mike drawled slowly, "Look, I don't blame ya if you're smitten, man. Rachel is one tight little package." He looked at Matt, "Dude, you should see her legs," he rolled his eyes heavenwards, "Fucking insane, and her ass-"

"Shut up about her ass, Chang." Puck growled, throwing a pillow at his friend. "And watch your mouth around my kid." All three of them looked at Eli, who at that moment glanced up at them.

Matt grinned at Eli. "How about you little Puck, do you have a girlfriend?"

Eli's face screwed up in disgust, an expression that had Matt and Mike howling with laughter and Puck holding out his hand for a high five. "Girls are gross," Eli stated emphatically, slapping his palm against his fathers.

"That's good," Puck nodded in satisfaction. "You just keep on thinking that way, dude. Girls have cooties; you wanna stay far, far away from them if you can help it."

Eli's eyes were very round as he got to his feet. "Do all girls have cooties, Daddy? Even Rachel?"

"Especially Rachel," Puck told his son emphatically.

"Oh stop," Matt threw his bottle cap at Puck's head with a grin.

"Don't listen to him Eli. Rachel does not have cooties." Mike tried to comfort the little boy who was looking adorably confused. "Cooties don't apply to Mommies."

Eli turned worried hazel eyes to his father, his hand resting on Puck's knee, "But Daddy, Rachel's not my Mommy. I don't want to stay away from her, I love her."

Puck couldn't help but think he'd never seen a cuter sight that Eli concerned about having to stay away from Rachel. Obviously that prospect was less than appealing to the young boy; Puck could relate. He reached down and picked Eli up, settling him onto his lap. "Daddy was just joking, Eli. Uncle Mike is right, Rachel doesn't have cooties, you don't have to stay away from her."

"Good," he said softly. "My real Mommy died and went to heaven. I don't want Rachel to go away too."

His voice was very small and Puck tucked him closer to his body. "Rachel's not going anywhere," he hastened to assure him. "She loves you too much. Besides, she's like your substitute Mommy, it's her job to look after you."

Eli tipped his head, "What's a sa-su-substute?" He struggled with the word.

Puck pursed his lips, "A substitute is someone who takes that place of someone else when they can't do the job. Like, in basketball - you like basketball right?" At Eli's nod he continued, "Well in basketball if someone's tired, or they can't play, you have someone come in and take their place. When your real Mommy died she asked Rachel to take care of you and do all the things a Mommy does."

"So," Eli said slowly, his face screwed up as he tried to make sense of it. "If Rachel is my Mommy _now_, then why can't I call her that?"

Puck froze - his can of Coke half way to his mouth. He wasn't prepared for these kind of questions and he wasn't sure exactly how it they should be answered. Mike and Matt had paused also and he turned frantic eyes on them; they just shrugged awkwardly in response to his silent plea.

"Um," he sat down his beverage and rubbed his neck awkwardly. He felt for his cell phone and wondered if this constituted an emergency, and whether Rachel would take his call. Puck hesitated, "It's a little complicated, Eli. You know you and Rachel had the same Mommy, don't you?"

Eli nodded, "Shelby."

"Right, so that means Rachel is actually your sister. I think maybe the reason you don't call her Mommy now is because she doesn't want you to forget that Shelby was your real Mom and that she loved you very much."

"Oh." Eli seemed to understand that, but of course, like all children, he had his own sense of logic. "My friend Tommy's mom died and he didn't have a mommy until his daddy married Elizabeth."

Puck didn't like where this was going.

"Can you marry Rachel, Daddy, so then I can call her Mommy?"

He swallowed hard and thought perhaps, he shouldn't be surprised by Eli's reasoning. Marriage was a logical correlation to make when they were talking about mommies and daddies, but he wanted to tackle this question even less than he'd wanted to answer the last one. Once again he looked to his friends for help. Mike was snorting at the thought of Puck and marriage and Matt was whistling, looking everywhere but at Puck directly.

His friends were bastards – legit treasonous bastards.

"Ah, I don't think so Bud."

His kid was pouting and Puck wanted to bang his head against the wall. See, this is why Rachel had no business going back to Long Island when her place was there, with them. He wasn't equipped to deal with these types of conversations - that was a chick's job. And she'd signed up for this parenting thing long before he had; she'd had practice, she was good at it.

"The thing is dude," he said slowly, "I don't think Rachel wants to marry me."

"Why?"

Kids and questions! Puck bit back a frustrated growl. "Rachel's kind of mad at me," he admitted.

"What did you do?" Eli wanted to know. Matt and Mike had a vested interest in his answer as well.

"Well, I might have accidentally made her feel bad."

Eli frowned up at him, "You should say sorry."

Puck nodded seriously, "That's good advice, but sometimes, when you do something really bad and hurt someone's feelings, saying sorry just isn't enough."

Eli tutted at him in disappointment and at that moment, his expression made him look so much like Rachel that Puck's heart ached. "Daddy, what did you do to make Rachel feel bad?"

An unexpected voice emerged from the doorway, "That's exactly what I would like to know."

All three men (and Eli) looked up to see Mrs. Puckerman standing in the entryway, her hands on her hips.

"Bubbe!" Eli hopped off Puck's lap and ran to his grandmother, his arms outstretched. Puck snorted. His son had spent one night in the company of his mother and already the crazy bat was forcing the Yiddish down his throat.

"Hello my beautiful Bubala," she crooned, raining kisses over his face in much the same manner as Rachel normally did. Eli just smiled and tolerated it, his thumb finding his mouth.

Puck glared unwelcomingly at his mother. He wasn't in the mood to deal with her particular brand of crazy at the moment. "What are you doing here?" He demanded grumpily.

"That's a lovely way to greet your mother," his Ma rolled her eyes, perching on the edge of the sofa with Eli in her arms. Puck just grumbled. "I got a phone call from Rachel, she asked me to stop by."

Puck gaped at her, incredulously. "That woman is unbelievable," he fumed. "I told her I had everything under control and she went and called my mom anyway. That's just brilliant."

Mrs. Puckerman leaned over and slapped her son across that back of the head, "Actually Noah, Rachel was sure you were doing just fine, she wanted me to come over and convince you of that – she seemed to think with the trouble you had with Eli yesterday, you might be second guessing yourself."

Puck just stared at her, "So she wanted you to come and tell me I was doing a good job?"

His mother nodded.

"Well," Puck said in surprise. "Fuck me."

That earned him another swift slap. "Language," she reprimanded him with an evil squint. Puck looked suitably contrite and Mike and Matt tried unsuccessfully to hide their laughter behind their hands.

Mrs. Puckerman looked down at Eli lovingly, and Puck's gaze dropped to his son also. He was a completely different kid than the one he'd been the day before, he was back to his adorable self. It was almost his bed time and his eyes seemed to be drooping as he snuggled against Puck's mother. Puck was surprised that Eli was so open with the woman, given that he hadn't spent a lot of time with her, but he supposed it might have something to do with the fact that Eli had never been apart from Rachel (or Quinn) for this long before and was probably craving a little bit of maternal affection.

"He's tired," Puck noted, glancing at his mother. "I think its bed time. Do you want me to take him?" Mrs. Puckerman just glared in response as she stood and Puck smirked, holding his hands up in surrender. "K, Ma, you do it."

"I only just found out about my grandson Noah, I'm not going to miss out on bedtime snuggles when I have the chance – that's the best bit about having children this age."

Puck nodded in agreement, then frowned. He opened his mouth as though he had changed his mind and was going to take over, but his mother was already standing in front of him and Eli was reaching his arms out for a goodnight hug.

Puck stood to comply, "Goodnight buddy."

Eli yawned, "'Night Daddy, love you."

Rachel had been right, that never got old. "Love you too, son." He replied tenderly, his tone one Mike and Matt had never heard him use before. They watched the exchange with interest, still unable to believe that Eli belonged to their long time friend, even when the proof of Eli's paternity was stamped all over his features.

After Eli had exchanged goodnights with the newly christened Uncle Matt and Uncle Mike, Puck watched his mother leave the room with the little boy cradled in her arms, and then he sank back into his seat, sighing. He looked up to see both of his friends staring at him. "What?" He demanded irritably.

"Duuuude," Matt drawled. "Tell us what happened with Rachel."

"You fucked her didn't you?" Mike couldn't help but add and Puck scowled at him. Mike was unfazed though; he just arched his eyebrow and waited.

Finally, Puck nodded. "Yeah."

Mike pumped his fist in victory.

"And?" Matt prompted. "It was bad? You didn't last, she didn't get off? What?"

Puck glared, "The fuck man! This is _me_ we're talking about. You better believe it was fucking epic. I don't have any problems in the stamina department and trust me," he paused, his eyebrow cocking smugly, "she got off each and every time I wanted her to."

Matt held his hands up in mock surrender while Mike regarded him thoughtfully. "And then? You had an epic fuck-fest and then she just ups and leaves? What's that about?"

Puck blew out a breath and leaned back in his chair. "I'm a bit of a dick," he said, as if they didn't already know that about him. "I wrote this stupid list about things I thought a woman should know, she found it and lost her shit."

"A list?" Mike asked, "What kind of things? Like, how to give great head or something? What?"

Matt laughed as Puck shook his head. "Naw," he reached into his pocket and retrieved that yellow piece of paper that had essentially ruined his life, passing it over to his friend. Matt slid off his chair and went to read over Mike's shoulder.

"I don't get it," he said after a second. "This doesn't look too bad. Knowing you, it could have been much worse."

Puck sighed, "You don't get it man. That list is everything that bugged me about her, before I actually got to know her and realize that all this," he pointed to the paper, "was just bullshit, that underneath it all, she was completely different – and actually kinda perfect."

Matt and Mike were still looking lost, so Puck explained everything. He started with his brief relationship with Shelby and then led into the stress that Shelby's mental problems had caused Rachel, before the accident that ultimately took his former lover's life - and to his horror, had nearly killed Rachel and Eli as well. He described Rachel's reaction to the death of her mother and how the trauma of the accident led to a steadfast determination to control every single aspect of her life. Puck detailed how Rachel had willingly moved out to Long Island to take care of Eli, and how terrified she was of making the same mistakes as her mother – to the extent that all spontaneity had been removed from her and Eli's lives, and then told them all about her plan to marry Finn and the reasons she had for doing so.

Finally, he rubbed a weary hand over his face and told them how, after he had eventually managed to convince her to take a chance on him, he had gone and royally screwed it up when it looked like they had a legitimate shot of becoming a family.

When he finished, Matt read over the list again and whistled, "Dude, you're a total prick."

"I wrote that before I knew her – or any of her history," he protested. "You think I wanted it to end this way? Fuck, I just want her to let me explain but she won't talk to me about any of it. She's convinced I was playing her and said that what happened between us was a huge mistake. I don't know how I can make her see that my feelings for her are real."

"How real?" Mike wanted to know, slightly apprehensive.

Puck held his gaze as he fished out his wallet. He pulled out a business card, tore it in half and tossed it onto the table. "Is that real enough for you?"

They leant forward eagerly and Mike gasped dramatically when he saw it was the N.G.M.N.F.W.N.F.E membership card that they'd jokingly made a few years back, when they'd pledged to each other that they would abide by the laws of bachelorhood for the rest of their days.

"No shit?" Matt chuckled, his eyes wide. He never thought he'd see the day when Noah Puckerman was willing – no, eager – to trade in his single status. Sure he was a dad now, and Matt supposed that changed your perspective, but Eli and Rachel weren't a package deal in the strictest of senses; if he wanted, Puck could be the kid's Dad without pursuing a romantic relationship with Rachel - she seemed to have made that clear and now apparently – after the shit that went down the day before - she preferred it.

"Yeah," Puck was saying. "I'm serious. Guys, I love her." He admitted quietly.

They could have heard a pin drop in the silence following that statement.

Matt cleared his throat, "Well, uh. That's great Puck. I wish I'd had the opportunity to meet her while she was here. I tell ya, I'd love to know what it is about this chick that's got you so bent out of shape. What's she like?"

"She's hot," Mike offered immediately, earning himself a glare. "On a scale of 1 to 10 she's a solid 9."

Puck scowled, "Fuck you Chang, there's no way she's less than a perfect 10." His expression softened. "She's amazing. Rachel's the whole package, she's got it all; the looks, the smarts, the personality….and man can she sing. Like seriously, Mariah Carey, Beyonce – they have nothing on her." He could feel himself gushing and if he was any less secure in his awesomeness, he'd kick his own ass for sounding like such a pussy. "And she's so great with Eli; she was on Broadway and she gave everything up so she could be there for him when she knew Shelby just wouldn't cut it. She's so selfless and I just want to-" he broke off, running his hand through his hair.

"I want to be there for her. She's always been so busy doing what she thought was right, for Shelby and for Eli – she deserves someone who will put her first for a change. I want to make her happy. She wants a family for Eli? Well I can give her that. They're mine now, you know? Both of them. You two idiots have got to help me figure out how to get her back."

He gazed at his friends with a pleading look and Matt nodded immediately. Out of their entire group, he was the romantic – he'd been in love with Tina since they were fifteen years old, if anyone believed in happily ever after, it was him. And from the way Puck spoke about this Rachel chick, he thought his long term friend had finally found the woman he could have that with.

"Sure dude, I'm in."

They both looked at Mike who was still staring at the torn up business card with something close to devastation mixed with shock.

"Chang?"

"What?" The Asian man looked up and after a minute, reluctantly agreed. "Yeah, ok."

Puck nodded. Then, the three of them just looked at each other.

"So…." Matt ventured unsurely. "Any ideas?"

Puck rubbed his hand over his face. "I dunno man. I fucked up big. This apology is gonna have to be epic."

"Big…" Matt mused, "Epic." After a moment he clicked his fingers. "I got it. What about one of those skywriting planes? You could like, skywrite an apology."

"Dude, that costs like, $500 bucks a letter." Mike vetoed. "He's gonna have to write something like, 'Sorry I'm such a fucking douche bag, Rachel. Forgive me.' That would bankrupt him."

Matt snickered and nodded.

Puck ignored the dig at his (literal) expense. "Rutherford 's on the right track though. It's gotta be romantic and shit," he reasoned. "Any attempt I make can't be half assed."

They were quiet for a moment, each of them lost in their thoughts until Mike piped up excitedly, "Dudddddde! I got it! You should build her a house! You want to be a family right? Well, build her a house and tell her you want to get married and have more kids and shit; she'll know then that you're in it for the long haul."

Puck and Matt just stared at him.

"A fucking house, Chang?" Puck asked incredulously.

Mike shrugged, "I saw it on The Notebook. Chicks go apeshit for that movie – it's a guaranteed panty dropper. He was a Noah, you're a Noah…." He trailed off, flushing with embarrassment as his friends shook their heads and exchanged glances that conveyed that they thought he was whacked.

"You said Rachel was musical right?" Matt asked a while later, "Why don't you sing her a song? You play guitar, and the word on the street is that your voice s'not half bad-"

"Who told you that?" Puck demanded. His voice was his most closely guarded secret. It was personal and not something he wanted to become public knowledge or worse, fodder for the Lima gossip mongers.

"Santana," Matt answered with a smile. "She said you used to sing your sister Disney songs to get her to sleep when she was little."

Puck glowered. Ten years later and his brief relationship with the woman he affectionately referred to as Satan, was still haunting him. "Just, no. Singing is Rachel's thing. I can only imagine how that'd go. I'd finish and she'd be like, 'Oh Noah, that was lovely but it in the interest of full disclosure I should tell you, you were a bit flat on the second verse and the chorus demands a high B which, let's face it, is not in your range.'" He'd adopted a high pitched squeak that they guessed was supposed to be his imitation of Rachel's voice.

Mike burst into laughter as Matt screwed up his nose, "Dude, does she really talk like that?"

Puck shrugged and smiled.

"Why the hell are we doing this again?" Matt inquired.

Mike and Puck looked at each other and responded at the same time, "Because she's hot."

Matt just rolled his eyes, bemused. "Ri-ght,"

"Honestly, anyone listening to the three of you would think romance was dead," Mrs. Puckerman said as she walked into the room with a cup of tea in her hand. She sat on the corner of the sofa, beside Matt and looked expectantly at her son. "So Noah, what's the plan? How are you going to woo Rachel back?"

"What makes you think I need to woo her?" He was instantly back on the defense, annoyed that she assumed (rightly so) that he was the one to screw things up between them. He could only imagine what Rachel had told his mother over the phone.

"Why? Because that woman is way out of your league, but somehow, it seems she's quite enamoured with you. If you don't fix whatever it was that sent her running for the hills, then put a ring on her finger and provide me with another half dozen gorgeous Jewish grandchildren, just like that little boy I put to bed, I will make your life a living hell."

"Well it's not like you don't already have a lock on that one," Puck sulked.

"Noah Eli Puckerman-"

"Shit Ma, ok!" Puck interrupted. He looked at her curiously. "Wait, she's enamoured with me? That's good right?"

Mrs. Puckerman rolled her eyes and smiled, a little indulgently. "Yes Noah, that's good. It was evident that while she harbors a great deal of anger towards you right now, she cares for you deeply. So," she raised her chin challengingly, "What are you going to do about it?"

Puck sighed, "I guess I'm gonna woo her." He agreed, grudgingly. His mother flashed that triumphant smile that he hated. It was a smile that usually had him go out of his way to do the exact opposite of what she suggested, just so he wasn't giving her the satisfaction of getting what she wanted. The problem was, this time the thing that his mother wanted just happened to be the one thing he would do anything to get as well - Rachel.

"Dude," Mike complained. "It's been like, an hour and we've come up with shit."

Mrs. Puckerman leant forward to pick up the list she'd heard mention of, and glanced at the torn N.G.M.N.F.W.N.F.E card on the table. She read what the anagram stood for and shook her head ruefully. Her son's phobia of marriage and commitment was one he would have to get over, and soon, because she'd already negotiated a drastically reduced room rental fee for the reception center, Rabbi Greenburg was on standby and the wedding invitations had been designed and proofed – all that was missing was the date.

They tossed around a few more ideas with Mrs. Puckerman dismissing each one, until finally, Puck threw his hands up in exasperation.

"Ma, you're being deliberately difficult. Please, just help me out here. What do I do?"

"I told you-"

"Yeah, yeah." He interrupted, "Woo her. Check. But how? I really don't think flowers and chocolate are going to cut it with her."

"Every woman loves roses and chocolates, Noah." Mrs. Puckerman contradicted, her tone condescending. As she read over the list, her lips pursed. No wonder lovely Jewish Rachel was so upset with her son. He was a complete putz.

"No offense, Ma. But Rachel's not like most chicks. If I'm going to make her believe that I want to be with her, I need to prove it." There was a desperate edge to his tone that had his mother raising her head to study him carefully. He was serious about this woman. That made her job a hell of a lot easier. She tried to contain her delight but from her son's scowl, it appeared she was doing a terrible job of it.

"As I said Noah, all women like to be wooed, but you're right. Rachel isn't most women and this list of yours is beyond ridiculous." She paused, considering. "I would suggest you start by proving that the things that are important to her, matter to you. And while you're at it, it would do you some good to learn what a man needs to know in order to a hold onto a woman like Rachel. I think you're already starting to realize that you were a prize schmuck to let her go."

Puck grunted, his mind racing as he contemplated his mother's words. Matt and Mike just looked at each other and shrugged.

"What a Man Needs to Know." Puck repeated slowly. "Ma, I think you're a fucking genius."

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_**A/N 2: Big thanks to Nikki and one of my fav people in the whole wide world Shann aka missphenix for their suggestions contained in this chapter - I was totes struggling with the Puck/Mike/Matt convo and the lame-ass suggestions they came up with to 'woo' Rachel and these two chicky babes came to my rescue - love you guys!**_


	15. What a Man Should Know aka The End

_**A/N: A huge thank you to my two lovely betas, Nikki and Suze – you ladies are wonderful and this fic wouldn't have made it this far without your support, encouragement and kickass editing/rewriting. The fact that you are both so well versed in the inner workings of Kels means I'm never giving you up! Hugs and kisses 3**_

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Rachel lay on her sofa with a cold compress over her throbbing temples, exhausted. The drapes were drawn in her apartment, blocking out the bright sunlight and making it seem dark and dreary. She was in a cocoon of misery; it was just too quiet without Eli, too lonely. And all she could do was think about Puck.

She'd been crying for three days straight now. The floor beside her was littered with tissues and her cell phone was sitting on the coffee table within reach for easy access. He hadn't called since she'd told him that phoning for any reason other than to let Eli talk to her was unwarranted. It broke her heart that he seemed to be respecting her wishes. He'd always done what he pleased before - pushing her, testing her limits – so why was he choosing now, of all times, to listen to her? Didn't he know that's not what she wanted? He should be fighting for her!

Quinn had given her false hope with her adamant belief that Puck was in love with her, and after spending her first day of wallowing cursing his existence, now Rachel was just waiting to hear his voice, to hear him say that he was sorry for everything; she wanted him to tell her again that everything that had happened between them was not a lie and she thought that this time, when he told her that, she'd believe him.

She could phone him, she supposed, the urge was still there. She was desperate to hear his voice – she had even picked up her cell phone and scrolled down to his number a hundred times - but she could never bring herself to place the call. She needed him to be the one to come to her. In the early hours of the morning, when she'd been lying awake and staring at her ceiling, she had decided he was being truthful when he said that while he might have started out thinking he needed to teach her a thing or two, things had changed. Hadn't she felt it too, that shift between them when their banter had evolved into something more heartfelt and meaningful?

That stupid list was playing on her insecurities and as much as she wanted to believe in the sincerity of his hazel eyes as he told her he wanted to be with her, there was that small seed of doubt inside her that wanted to remind her that long before she had come along, Puck was in love with her mother. Shelby had problems, but Rachel had been right when she said everyone had loved her when she was at an upswing, full of energy and life.

That nagging suspicion that Puck had tried to change her into someone like Shelby, frightened her. She was in love with him, and she knew from the way that he touched her, that he felt something for her in return. Whether or not it was love though remained to be seen. She just wasn't sure how much of his feelings could be attributed to her likeness to her mother. Until she knew for certain, she was determined to hold onto her heart – protect it and keep him from damaging it any more than he already had.

She was lying to herself of course, because she had given him her heart when she'd given him her body; truthfully, probably even long before that. The home phone rang then, startling her from her thoughts. She wanted to snatch up the receiver immediately, but she forced herself to wait for the answering machine to pick up; she was not in the mood to deal with telemarketers.

"Rachel, it's Quinn. Please pick up."

She hesitated.

"I know you're home, I can see your car and the lady who lives across the hall said you've been playing country music until the early hours of the morning. Country, Rachel." There was an edge of humor in Quinn's tone and Rachel felt the corner of her mouth lift.

"You don't have to let me in Sweetie, just pick up the phone and let me know you're alright."

Rachel sat up slowly, her head spinning as she moved from the position she'd been in for hours. "Hello Quinn." Her voice was raspy and hoarse from all the crying.

There was silence on the end of the line and then, "You sound awful."

Rachel just blew her nose into a tissue.

"Rachel," Quinn sighed. "What are you doing?"

"I'm crying," Rachel replied honestly. "I've been crying all day, just as I did all day yesterday. I may cry tomorrow as well, and for the rest of the week. Maybe for a month, I don't know, I haven't decided yet." And that was just like her wasn't it? Thinking she could control everything and determine how long exactly this dark place of grief within her would last.

"This just isn't like you."

The pity in her voice had Rachel bristling, "Well I'm sorry if how I'm acting disconcerts you Quinn, but in the space of a few days I've had my engagement broken off, found out that my best friend is a backstabbing harlot, had to leave the person I love most in the world in the hands of someone who broke my heart and had to come to grips with the fact that the man I love may never fully love me back in the way that I need him to. Please, if you think there's a way I should be coping with this that is more 'like me', feel free to share."

They were quiet for a moment.

"I'm so sorry, Rachel." Quinn blurted out, her breath hitching.

Rachel rubbed her temple. Despite everything Quinn was still her best friend, and it was taking more energy than she currently possessed to hold onto her anger. "I know Q. I'm still mad at you though. I can't believe that you would betray me like that with Finn."

"I know!" Quinn was crying softly on the other end of the line. "I never meant for it to happen, I love you so much but I-"

"Love Finn too." Rachel finished for her. She sighed, "We'll be ok Quinn, eventually. I just need some time to think and get over this."

"Rachel-"

"Please Quinn, let's not talk anymore. I just need some space."

Quinn sniffled, "Ok. But I'm here Rach, whatever you need."

"Thank you."

"Alright then…" They both hated this, the awkwardness between them. "I figured you still weren't up for leaving the house, so I brought you pizza for dinner."

"I'm not hungry," Rachel replied automatically.

"Well that's too bad." Quin retorted, the spunk returning to her tone. "I'm already here and I have a medium veggie pizza with stuffed olives – exactly how you like it. I'm going to ring the doorbell and leave it right outside alright?"

Unfortunately, Rachel's stomach was rumbling and she had to admit, pizza sounded wonderful. It would make a perfect appetizer to the pint of Rocky Road ice cream she had selected for tonight's entree. She should really send Puck the bill for the additional hours she'd need to book in with her personal trainer - all these additional carbohydrates she had been consuming were entirely his fault!

"Fine."

Scarcely a minute after she had hung up, the doorbell rang and she shuffled over to the entry and peered out the peephole. She waited until she was satisfied that there was no movement in the hallway and Quinn had gone, before opening the apartment door. It wasn't until she had leaned over to pick up the pizza box that she noticed the envelope carefully taped to the box.

Her heart began to thump painfully as she saw her name in familiar (almost illegible) handwriting and she rushed inside and slammed the door shut, clutching the steaming pizza to her chest.  
_  
No, it couldn't be!_ But she didn't think it likely that she'd ever forget that handwriting, and pizzas didn't generally come personally addressed. With slow, measured steps, she crossed back to the sofa, eyeing the envelope suspiciously. Placing her dinner on her coffee table, she turned the envelope over and over in her hands. Finally, forgetting that only moments ago she was wishing he would call her and confess his undying love for her, she tossed it to the side, telling herself she wasn't interested in anything he might have to say.

Instead, Rachel lifted the lid on the pizza box and felt her mouth water as she was assaulted by the smell of mozzarella, garlic and roasted vegetables. She had already eaten one slice and was midway through her second when the curiosity got the better of her and she tore the envelope open.

Inside was a single sheet of yellow lined paper, folded in half, with the words _**What a**_ _**Man Should Know**_ written across it. Whatever text was written inside was hidden by the fold. She bit her lip in indecision but it was a losing battle. With shaking hands she opened the note and a photograph fell out. She placed the photo face down in her lap, unable to look at it just yet, and turned her attention back to the note. It read:

_**1) A man should know better than to mock a woman's love of stainless steel. Those appliances represent family and tradition.**_

In brackets, there was the addition, _**(A man should also have nothing but praise for a woman's cooking ability, especially when men themselves are too stubborn to follow recipes).**_

Intrigued now, Rachel turned over the photo to see Puck and Eli crouched in front of an oven, a tray of unidentified burnt meat in their oven-mittened hands and identical looks of dismay etched on their features. She let out a laugh and immediately clapped a hand over her mouth, as if to stifle her amusement. Her eyebrow furrowed as she took a closer look at the picture. That _was_ a stainless steel oven. She knew with absolute certainty that Puck's oven was an older Kenmore standard model gas oven, so what was he doing crouched in front of a gleaming new one? That _was_ his kitchen; she recognised the pattern on the floor tiles and the color of his kitchen cupboards.

Had he brought a new oven because of her penchant for stainless steel, or had his garbage-can-in-the-oven disaster from a few days before rendered his unusable and it was all just a happy coincidence? She was willing to bet on the first one, and if Puck thought he could buy her forgiveness with gleaming new kitchen appliances, he was mistaken. Besides, he had them delivered to his home, not hers! She snorted and put aside the photo and then crumpled up the note and tossed it to the floor, along with her used tissues.

Rachel ate the entire pizza and half the pint of ice cream.

After she had sent a text message to Quinn that said simply 'traitor' (not forgetting her estranged best friend's part in the subterfuge), she retrieved the note and smoothed out the creases as she read it again. With a small smile she tucked it into the novel she was reading, turned out all of the lights and went to bed. She slept fitfully that night.

The next morning the doorbell woke her early. Rachel lay in bed, blinking the sleep out of her eyes and staring at her ceiling as she told herself to stay put. Something told her that whatever was at her door would have another handwritten note attached and she was not so eager to prove her suspicion correct that she would surrender the chance for a sleep in. After barely two minutes of waiting though, she couldn't resist a peek. Another cursory glance through her peephole revealed no one waiting on the other side, but when she opened the door there was another envelope addressed to her. This one was legal size and was addressed in that same messy scrawl with another announcement of '_What a Man Should Know'__**.**_

This time she didn't hesitate. She tore into the envelope with undisguised eagerness and pulled out a single, thick piece of cardstock. It looked like a certificate of some sort, but when she read over it she saw she was mistaken. It was actually a contract. A contract between Eli and Puck, entitled _**Rules for Small Boys (and Big Ones) to Live By**_.

Rachel's eyes ran over the bullet points and towards the bottom were two signatures, the print underneath one identifying itself as belonging to Noah Eli Puckerman, and the other to Eli Jay Corcoran. She traced Eli's shaky letters, simply scribed E-L-I and read what rules Puck considered were essential, yet not damaging to a little boys spirit (she suspected Mrs. Puckerman had been consulted, judging from the content of the list).

_**1) Growing boys need to eat their vegetables. There will be no ice cream unless you clear your plate. NB: This does not mean you get Hank to lick it clean!**_

_**2) Bath time is non negotiable. If little boys want to continue to have fun (fishing, playing in mud bogs) they have to agree to wash at night and keep the shrieking to a minimum.**_

_**3) Bed time is also non negotiable. Eli will go to bed when Daddy says so and daddy promises to read Eli up to three stories before lights out.**_

_**4) Daddy's toothbrush is off limits. Hank has his own, special tooth brush that the vet uses to clean his teeth when he gets his check up. Brushing Hank's teeth is not Eli's job. Again, DADDY'S TOOTHBRUSH IS OFF LIMITS. **_

_**5) Daddies will always listen to the rules set out by Mommies. Even when he doesn't agree with them, he needs to remember they exist for a reason. Mommies are so wise.**_

Rachel laughed as she imagined the scenario that led to point number four and smiled softly and read again the part about Mommies being so wise. With a bounce in her step, she headed to the bathroom where she washed and blow dried her hair and dressed for the day in a loose yellow and white sundress. She must have been feeling better because she even took the time to apply a minimal amount of makeup. She had oatmeal and a banana for breakfast, but by mid morning, when she felt as though the loneliness and the despair were creeping back in, she grabbed the ice cream from the freezer.

Before she could dig in, the doorbell rang again.

She wasted no time in sprinting to answer it. This time there was a flat white box tied with a pale pink ribbon sitting on her doorstep. She snatched it up with growing excitement and when she was back inside the apartment, she tore off the ribbon and pulled at the tissue paper until her present was revealed. Rachel gasped as she lifted a white satin and lace babydoll lingerie set out of the box. The v string panties looked as though they would barely cover anything and the lace was strategically placed so that her breasts would be clearly visible through the fabric. It was beautiful and naughty, and Rachel had never owned a garment like it.

Blushing, she reached for the envelope tucked in the box and read what else a man should know.

_**3) Women like to get down and dirty, just as much as men do.**_

She giggled. His motives were becoming obvious; there was no doubt about it. He was attempting to alleviate her fears by proving to her that her values were important and in the process, self-depreciatively mock the list he had made in a way that was fun and surprisingly thoughtful.

She, Rachel Berry, was being wooed.

Rachel scooted off to the bedroom to try it on. As she stood in front of her full length mirror, turning this way and that as she admired how sexy and wanton the lingerie made her appear, she tried to muster up the indignation at his gall. "He's still trying to turn you into something you're not," she said out loud to her reflection. But the woman in the mirror just quirked an eyebrow and smirked as she ran her hands over the fabric, her fingers brushing over her nipples that were erect and clearly visible through the lace.

Reluctantly, she slipped it off and tucked it carefully under her pillow. She was humming as she redressed. Feeling restless she took off for a long walk. A bit of fresh air and a few hours in the sun was just what she needed.

When she returned later in the afternoon it was to find a calendar hanging on her front door with the now familiar _**What a Man Should Know**_ envelope stuck to the front. Rachel stared at it before sliding her finger underneath and plucking the envelope free.

_**4) Raising kids requires organization and planning. This also works to the parent's advantage (though surprises are still kick ass too).**_

Rachel flicked through the pages of the 12 month calendar with hers, Eli and Puck's birthday's all listed, along with weekly trips to the park and scheduled family dinners. She furrowed her brow at the mark made with yellow highlighter on every day of every month and it wasn't until she reached the page after December where there was space to list important dates and reminders, that she learnt what the yellow was code for. He had written _**Nights of Endless Loving (to be combined with women like to get down and dirty).**_

She felt her breathing quicken as she let her mind dwell on the image of Noah stripping the lingerie set off of her. She claimed her calendar and slipped inside the apartment, her cheeks burning. She wandered around the kitchen for five minutes before coming to stand in front of the calendar already hanging dependably by the fridge, as it always had. Rachel stared at it, the jam-packed schedule of color coded activities that sometimes made her tired from just looking at it. She tore it off the wall and threw it carelessly into the garbage can and put the new, improved calendar up in its place.

She stared at it some more and then laughed.

Feeling more like herself, she had a salad for dinner. Afterwards, she resisted the temptation of ice cream and tried to watch a film to keep her mind off Puck and what he was doing at that very moment. She was unsuccessful, but then if she wanted to immerse herself in a story that had didn't remind her of the one she and Noah were writing together, she probably should have picked a different film, a less romantic one…_whatever_, she loved the Notebook.

She thought tomorrow was the day she would see him again; she could feel it in her bones and she's always been just a little bit psychic. She fell asleep with her hand underneath her pillow, touching the nightgown he had brought her and that night, she dreamt of a different white gown and of Noah waiting for her underneath a Chuppah. Eli was standing by his side with a small satin pillow in his hands and two rings of white gold, and when the Rabbi pronounced them man and wife, and Noah had broken the glass to a rousing chorus of "Mazel tov!", Rachel could have sworn she could make out Mrs Puckerman cheering loudly in the background.

In the morning she was singing softly to herself as she went about her morning routine, unable to wipe the smile off of her face.

She made frequent trips to her front entry and spent an extraordinary amount of time with her eye to the peephole hoping to catch a glimpse of him – so sure that it was Noah making the deliveries to her door. She knew that one flash of closely cropped dark hair or a glimpse of hazel would see her flinging the door open and launching herself into his arms.

Unfortunately, she was in the kitchen making tea when the doorbell sounded at 10 o'clock and by the time she'd raced to the door, the hall was empty. Still, she was treated to an enthusiastic greeting as Hank leapt up onto his hind legs to give her a wet kiss. She laughed and hugged him, so ecstatic at his presence she didn't even flinch when his tongue caught the corner of her lip. Rachel scratched behind his ear and reached for the small envelope pinned to his collar.

_**5) Dog's kisses are a poor substitute for the real thing.**_

"Oh Noah," she sighed, a wistful smile playing on her lips. He was close, she could feel it. Stepping back, she gave the hall another glance before inviting Hank in.

Barely five minutes later, Rachel was setting out a plastic bowl of water for him on the kitchen floor when the familiar ringing sounded again. Hank trotted to the door with her and they both stared down at another white box tied with the same pink ribbon. This box was about the size of her microwave and she immediately sank to her knees, right there in the doorway and opened the lid. It was filled to the brim with Hershey's kisses and the note included said simply_...__**another poor substitute. But apparently, an apology is never complete without chocolate.**_

"Noah Puckerman!" she cried out in exasperation, jumping to her feet with a grin and dashing down the hall and around the corner towards the elevators. She needed to see him _now_, but he was nowhere to be found. She was just about to retrace her steps back to the apartment when the elevator sounded. Turning slowly, her heart beating wildly in her chest, she waited for the doors to open. When it did, she was confronted by the biggest bouquet of roses she'd ever seen.

Rachel smiled knowingly at the delivery man who got off. "Let me guess, those are for Rachel Berry."

He nodded and after exchanging pleasantries, she signed her name on his manifest and accepted the flowers. The accompanying note read, _**And flowers, lots of flowers.**_

Lots of flowers indeed. Every half an hour, another bouquet arrived, delivered by the same delivery man whose expression grew more and more amused with every visit. Rachel looked around her apartment in giddy disbelief. Practically every horizontal surface was covered in an assortment of roses, lilies, daisies and gerberas. She'd run out of vases long ago and was starting to feel guilty about the expense Puck had gone to.

At 4:30 it wasn't flowers that Jake was holding (yes she was now on a first name basis with the delivery man) it was yet another white box. This one too, was the size of a microwave.

"It's heavy" he cautioned her, "do you want me to carry it inside for you?" She nodded and stepped back so he could enter and pointed to the spot she wanted him to set it down. Jake looked around her apartment in amazement as she signed her name on the clipboard, under the dozen or so signatures already there for the deliveries he had made that day. They were all to her.

"Man, that's a lot of flowers." He commented dumbly, "He must really love you."

She smiled shyly as she saw him out, "Yes, I think he does."

She choose to read the note stuck to the top first but when she opened the _What a Man_ _Should Know_ envelope there was no note inside, just bits of torn card. When she pieced them together she saw that it was Puck's Not Getting Married, No Fucking Way, Not Fucking Ever membership card and her heart soared. Surely there was no mistaking his intentions now; he wanted to be with her.

Rachel opened the box and instead of chocolate, it was packed with prunes. She laughed again and picked up the second envelope.

_**6) Men who stay single because they think they're free are kidding themselves. What they need is a kid to bring laughter in the house and a gorgeous woman to make love to every night - so there's no jumping off bridges in their middle years.**_

She reread the note as she punched his number into her cell phone. The presents were lovely and she appreciated the sentiment behind them, but she didn't need gifts - she just needed him. Unfortunately his phone went straight to voicemail.

Rachel took a moment before saying softly, "Enough Noah. Please, just…" she sighed. "I need you to be the one standing at my door the next time the doorbell rings. What I should have admitted the last time we spoke, is that I miss you too." She hung up and picked out a Hershey's kiss from the other box in the middle of her living room. If he didn't show, she might just eat her way through the pounds of chocolate available to her.

It was an hour later when the buzzer rang again. She patted Hank's head absently on the way to answer it, too distracted to realize it was after five and too late for standard deliveries. It wasn't Noah, but it wasn't Jake at her door either.

"Eli!"

He looked adorable, standing there in what looked like brand new chinos, a white shirt and a similar red bow tie to the one he'd been wearing in the first picture she'd shown Puck, with his hair slicked back.

Hank barked excitedly and raced to Eli's side, his tail thumping loudly on the floor as he jumped up to lick his cheek. Eli frowned and pushed him gently away, before whispering, "Not now Hank, you know the plan."

_The plan?_ Rachel arched her eyebrow curiously as Eli looked up at her with his most earnest expression. Her fingers itched to pick him up and hold him tight – it had been only three days but she could have sworn he had grown at least an inch - but something told her to hold back.

"Rachel, Daddy and I have something to ask you." His tone was very serious and Rachel bit back a smile at his overwhelming cuteness.

"Okay," she discreetly peered out into the hall to see if Puck was loitering nearby. He must be, because there was no way he would let Eli out of his sight, but the hall was clear and Rachel sighed in disappointment. Just a little longer.

"Alright then, ask away Pumpkin."

Her eyes widened as Eli got down on one knee and produced a small black box that he opened carefully and held up for her inspection. "Rachel," he began, solemnly. "Will you marry me and Daddy? Will you be my Mommy, for real?"

She gasped; her hand flying up to cover her mouth as she found herself staring down at the most exquisite ring she'd ever laid eyes on. "Eli…." she breathed, rendered completely speechless. She reached out a tentative hand and touched the box, her finger tracing lightly over the glittering diamond.

"Say yes, Rachel," Eli prompted, getting to his feet and wrapping his arms around her legs as he continued to look up at her, his lower lip thrusting out into a pout that he'd only just learnt made it hard for her to deny him anything. She reached down and picked him up, hugging him close. She looked at the ring again and then back to Eli's wide hazel eyes.

"You're not playing fair, Noah." She called out, certain that he was within ear shot. She smiled at her brother. "How am I supposed to say no to this face?"

Puck finally appeared from around the corner, shuffling towards them nervously with his hands in his pockets. "That's the point Rach, you're not supposed to say no." Her eyes raked over him greedily, drinking in the sight of him. She noticed, gratifyingly, that he couldn't seem to take his eyes off her either.

"Hi," she said softly when he'd made it to their side.

"Hey."

Rachel ducked her head, pressing a kiss to Eli's cheek before tucking her face into his shoulder to give herself a moment. Puck slid his hand down her arm, capturing the hand that had been resting on Eli's leg and laced their fingers together. When she looked up, she was pinned by his gaze and her heart beat a little faster at the look in his eyes. There was tenderness there and a certain amount of apprehension as well.

They spoke at the same time.

"Noah-"

"I love you."

Rachel blinked slowly, daring to hope. "Do you mean that?" She ventured quietly.

He squeezed her hand and nodded, "Rachel, that list was the single dumbest thing I've ever done. You have to believe me when I tell you that I honestly don't want to change a thing about you."

"Really?" She bit her lip, looking down at their hands as he stroked his thumb over her knuckles. "I don't want to feel like you're constantly comparing me to a ghost."

He crowded in closer to them and rested his forehead against hers. "I didn't love Shelby." he told her firmly. "I think I fooled myself into believing I did, for a while anyway, because she was just so fun and exciting. And I'm not going to lie to you and pretend like it didn't hurt like a bitch when she left me, because the truth is, it fucking sucked."

Rachel frowned, leaning back slightly and trying to tug her hand from his, but he held firm.

"You shouldn't swear." Eli was frowning at him, giving Puck the impression he knew he was screwing this up and he wasn't happy about it. He mumbled an apology and tried to forge on.

"But what it's taken me this long to realize Rach, was that it wasn't Shelby herself that made me feel those things. We pursued _experiences_ that made us happy; we went skydiving and we ate out all the time. We took a roadtrip down to the Kentucky Bourbon Festival and had s-e-x," he spelled, "like all the time."

"I really did not need to know that," she sighed in annoyance.

"Point is," he continued. "It was things _outside _our relationship that stimulated us. If we took those things away, we wouldn't have lasted a week." His tone was matter of fact. "And it took meeting you for me to know what it was like to _really _be in love. Because those feelings I'm talking about, the ones that I spent six months pursuing with Shelby, I got them from just looking at you the very first day we met. And that has nothing to do with you being her daughter Rachel, or the woman caring for my son - it has everything to do with_ you_."

She searched his eyes, trying to find some indication that what he was telling her wasn't the honest to goodness truth, but to her immense relief, she found none.

"I love you too." she admitted quietly, "And I'm sorry that I ever said I didn't. I don't regret anything that happened between us, Noah. You have to know that the," she hesitated, glancing at Eli. "the s-e-x," she spelled it too, "has never been like that for me. Not that it's the most important part of a functional relationship of course, and your prowess in the bedroom is only one of the things that I find so magnetically compelling about you, but I-"

He cut her off with a finger to her lips and smirked. "That's good to know, babe. And yeah, it's not the most important thing but it rates pretty high up there. You need to know we are going to be having a lot of it. Like, a lot." he winked and she blushed. "I think our married s-e-x is going to be off the charts. I may just take to calling you Mrs. Puck in bed, coz the thought of you belonging to me Rach - and me belonging to you - gets me frigging hot."

"Mrs. Puck?" she questioned teasingly, "not Mrs. Puckerman?"

Immediately his grin faded and he looked like he was going to vomit. "Christ woman, don't say that. My Ma is Mrs. Puckerman, that's just nasty!"

She let out a laugh as Eli looked between the two of them, patiently waiting to be included in the conversation. His gaze dropped to the ring box he held and his tiny fingers reached down to stroke the velvet surrounding the ring. "Pretty." he murmured.

Rachel stopped laughing and looked down at the ring again, longingly.

Puck was watching her carefully, "That was my grandmother's ring," he told her huskily. "She gave it to me on my 16th birthday, just before she died, and made me promise to give it to the woman I was going to spend the rest of my life with. It's never been out of my sock drawer. I've never, _**ever**_ considered giving that to anyone before. Ever."

She took a deep breath. "But it's only been three weeks," she protested weakly. "It's too soon for us to be talking about marriage, isn't it? How could we-"

"Who says it's too soon and who cares how long it's been?" he demanded, smiling confidently at her. "Shit, my Ma's probably got the whole thing organized already. I wouldn't be surprised if she texts you in the next five minutes asking for your dress size."

Her eyes widened, "She wouldn't!"

Puck wisely kept his mouth shut. Probably best to not reveal the full extent of his mother's craziness until after the ring was on her finger.

"Look, I could wait a month to propose, or even a year, but why wait when my feelings aren't going to change? I want to marry you, Rachel. I want to be with you and Eli every day, whether that's here or in Lima, O-frigging-Hio, I don't give a shit. I just know that besides finding out about this little dude," he tousled Eli's hair affectionately, "waking up next to you was the best moment of my life. These last few days without you have been unbearable, I want us to be a family."

Her tongue darted out to moisten her lower lip, "I want that too," she said shyly.

He grinned and then his expression turned serious. "So Rach, Eli and I asked you a question and you haven't given us an answer."

"Yeah Mommy, answer us!" Eli demanded endearingly. Rachel jerked, startled by her new title and tears immediately began pooling in her eyes. Puck made a mental note to sneak two scoops of ice cream to his son later, for his impeccable timing, then, he took the box from his son and grasped her hand. Gently, he slipped the ring over the knuckle of the fourth finger on her left hand, and when it was in place, all three of them looked down at it in awe. It was a perfect fit.

Rachel met his eyes and nodded.

"Yes?" Puck asked, his voice rough as he grasped her waist and pulled her and Eli into a three way hug. Hank let out a quiet woof and nudged the back of her thigh with his head.

"Yes?" Eli echoed excitedly.

Rachel smiled tearfully at both of them, feeling so overwhelmed she thought her heart would burst from the sheer happiness of the moment. She took in a deep breath and closed her eyes tightly. Leaning into her fiancee's arms and hugging her brother – no, her _son_ - she thought about how much had changed in the last month. This little boy nestled between their bodies had brought them together and provided a catalyst for the two adults to change so drastically and so quickly.

Noah, the confirmed bachelor, was not only pledging monogamy, but proposing marriage – learning to be a father and a real man – and loving every minute of it. And Rachel was finally getting that picture perfect family she had yearned for all along. But it was to her surprise that the family wasn't created from her meticulous research and carefully crafted plans; it was a family that was born only _after_ the realization that opening her heart and surrendering her control were the key to her true happiness.

She was so glad she had, because the reality was turning out to be better than she could ever have envisioned.

"Yes," she whispered.

Puck uttered her name like a prayer and leaned in, caressing her cheek as he claimed her lips in a kiss that quickly turned heated and passionate – despite the four year old that was looking on in disgusted fascination.

"Gross," Eli muttered darkly, poking his father in his chest for good measure. The action achieved nothing as Rachel sighed against Puck's mouth and fisted her hand in his shirt to pull him even closer.

When he was apparent that his parents weren't going to part anytime soon, he clapped a hand over his eyes, aware that this was probably something he shouldn't be watching. Smiling, he shrugged his shoulders and said, "You're so lucky Daddy, that Mommy doesn't have cooties."

**~ fin ~**

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**_**A/N 2: Thank you all so much for taking a chance on this fic and seeing it though to the end with me! I've really enjoyed reading what you've had to say/comment on and suggest throughout the entire journey and I'm so beyond flattered by the sheer number of people who favorited and alerted this universe – I don't feel even remotely worthy!**_


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